How to be Dominant
by Atlas Rain
Summary: Leonardo gets a few lessons from some mutual friends. Leonardo/Ezio.
1. Uno

AN: First of all... Please don't kill me. I just prefer dom!Leonardo over dom!Ezio. It's sexier. Much sexier than the whole 'omg, I'm Leonardo da Vinci and I'm just sooo helpless and girly and omg Ezio you're such a strong man lololol I'm urs 4everrr!" thing. Because quite frankly, da Vinci is _all_ fucking _man _(Haha. I said fucking man), and I can't honestly believe that he would be the chick in the relationship. Sure, there's his adorable wittle outer shell, but I think that deep down on the inside is this big, bad, sexy beast that's just dying to be let out of his cage. And I'm thinking we should let that delicious fucker out.

WARNING TIEM: Holy shit, there's slash and dirty stuff in here. When mixed together, it smells like sugar cookies and semen. :D

* * *

Chapter Uno:

U NO? NO, U

It hadn't been one of those extremely meaningful, 'romantic' moments when Leonardo realized that his feelings for his closest friend ran a little deeper than simply, ahem, platonic friendship.

It just sort of happened, sneaking up on him like food poisoning, leaving him confused and nauseated.

The day that Leonardo would forever call 'Get the Picture Day' started off like any other in Venice. The birds were chirping, the sun was shining, the market was buzzing, the whores were boning, the thieves were stealing, and the guards were... uh... chasing the thieves.

The artist woke up with a warm, fuzzy feeling in his stomach and he couldn't wait to start the new day. Changing out of his pajamas (no, it was _not_ a nightgown) and into his usual attire, he hurried downstairs.

It was really a lovely day and he was hoping that maybe he'd have enough time to go out for a walk or something.

However, despite his cheery disposition and the wonderful day that was bound to happen, Leonardo couldn't help but feel like he was forgetting something.

Stepping carefully over the sketches and notes that littered the floor (_'I'll organize them later,'_he constantly told himself) he made his way to his main desk which was also drowning in papers. He moved them aside one by one (often getting distracted by either a particularly interesting drawing that he didn't remember ever doing, or by a silly quote that he must've overheard in the marketplace) until he eventually came across what he was looking for; his daily planner. Which was his entire adult life written into appointments, important events, and deadlines.

He himself wasn't sure why he wrote deadlines down because he always seemed to forget them, but he wrote them anyways. Because there were days where he would look at his daily planner and, by mere luck, be reminded of said deadlines.

This was one of those days.

"Cazzo!" Leonardo exclaimed as he read and reread the note he had written to himself at the beginning of the month.

_Landscape (Building) Painting – The Thieves' Hideout_

_Commissioned by: Antonio_

_Due: In 30 days; is to be delivered at midnight._

_Note To Self: There is no procrastinating allowed. Antonio is a terror._

The artist gulped audibly. Antonio de Magianis, the Robin Hood of Italy, was definitely a terror. Especially when it came to how he spent his money. Which was kind of ironic, since he was a _thief_. Rosa had somehow persuaded him to buy a piece of art from Leonardo ("She is the one who wants it, not I," Antonio had ever so nicely explained.) and had been warned by the man himself that he did not give two shits about rushing art; if the painting was not ready by the time he expected it finished then there would be hell to pay. Because _Antonio_ sure as fuck wasn't going to pay for something that arrived late.

Leonardo shuddered, looking at his planner again for the eleventh time. The damned thing was to be in Antonio's hands by _tomorrow_. And he had only finished the rough draft!

Groaning to himself, he closed the planner and made his way across his workshop, sitting down on the wooden chair in the corner. Leonardo leaned back into it, placed a hand over his eyes, and let out a sigh. He needed time. Time to think, time to breathe, time to figure out how the hell he would pull off a decent painting in just a little over 24 hours. He just... needed time.

"Leonardo, are you alright?"

Ezio's voice came from literally _right fucking next to him_, scaring the living daylights out of the artist and almost (but not quite) making him fall off his chair.

"Mio dio! Jesus Christ, Ezio, do you ever _knock _like a normal person!?" Leonardo exclaimed, eyes wide.

"M-Mi dispiace, Leonardo," Ezio replied, shocked by Leonardo's outburst. "I forget that I am so quiet sometimes."

The artist exhaled loudly and pressed two fingers to one of his temples.

"Apologies, my friend. I did not mean to snap at you."

"Everyone has their days. Do not worry about it."

Leonardo took it upon himself to actually look at Ezio for the first time since the... intrusion.

The younger man was indeed standing right next to the sitting artist, brown eyes confused and slightly uncertain but smiling nonetheless. It looked as though he wanted to ask something, but was also somehow unsure of it.

_'How curious,'_ thought Leonardo. _'That is not something I would expect from Ezio.'_

"What can I do for you, Ezio?"

"Huh?"

"You came here for a reason, did you not? What can I do?"

"Oh, right. Well..." Ezio pulled back the half-cape that was draped over his shoulder, revealing... red.

Lots and lots of red. Red that appeared to be stretching across the white of Ezio's robes as the moments dragged on. Red that seemed to be centering around something that looked like an arrow in the assassin's shoulder.

Leonardo's mind was not fully awake yet, so it took a few seconds for things to finally click.

"Ezio, you are wounded! Why did you not tell me sooner!?" He grabbed Ezio by the wrist and dragged him over to the large table that he had dubbed as 'Ezio's Table'. You know, the table where Leonardo da Vinci magically transforms into Dottore Leonardo da Vinci, master of all that is sharp and painful.

Yeah. That one.

"Sorry, Leonardo," Ezio said quite calmly for a man who had an arrow sticking out of his shoulder. "I forgot. I was daydreaming."

"You forgot? Ezio, how could you _daydream_ over pain?"

The younger man simply grinned. "I do not know... Perhaps I was having a Leonardo moment."

And there it was. The feeling that had snuck up so quietly behind him. There it was, making him confused and jittery.

Ezio hadn't done much. Just a friendly comment, just a simple smile.

But somehow it had a huge impact on him, and he felt his stomach twist almost violently. It wasn't something Leonardo could put his finger on. It happened every single time he spoke with the assassin, every time he saw him, and yet it always caught him by surprise.

Leonardo paused for a moment, and looked at Ezio. Bleeding on the table. Perhaps he should actually start _helping_ his friend instead of staring at him. God, of all the times to space out...

"What happened to you?" the artist asked softly, as he helped the assassin on to the table.

"It's sort of a long story. And it's a little bizarre. Are you sure you want to hear it?"

"We have time, and I like bizarre stories," Leonardo answered, his eyes fixated on the wound. The arrow had entered through the back, and the tip was slightly poking out of his shoulder. This was going to be painful.

"Alright, well... I was running across the rooftops when I came across a sparrow's nest –"

"A sparrow's nest? How lovely! You always find such nice things on your quests over rooftops..." Leonardo chimed as he placed one hand on Ezio's shoulder, and the other around the middle of the arrow.

Ezio didn't seem to notice, which made things a lot easier on the both of them.

"Yes, I saw a sparrow's nest. May I continue? Grazie. Anyways, it makes me pause for a moment because I've never seen any bird nests in Venezia before. So I walk towards it when all of a sudden I hear a guard yelling at me to get down. I'm not really in the mood for a fight, so I do what he tells me to. However, on my way over to the nest I think I must've snagged a part of my sash in the wall, and when I try to walk over to the ledge to climb back down... I... um... well, I trip. And fall on my face."

Leonardo had been listening intently, momentarily forgetting about the arrow he was supposed to rip out of his friend's back. He was soon grinning at the assassin's clumsiness (and the fact that the younger man was extremely embarrassed by it) and it wasn't long before the grin turned into a few barks of laughter.

"My my, Ezio," Leonardo chuckled as he re-tightened his grip on the arrow. "Graceful as a lion, aren't you?"

"Shut the fuck up, Leonar – AGH! Son of a bitch, that _hurts_!"

The artist couldn't help the small smirk that flitted across his lips.

XIXIX

"Aren't you going to finish your story?" Leonardo questioned from his spot behind his portable easel.

The two men sat side by side out in front of Antonio's hideout for thieves and whatnot.

Leonardo was painting away like a madman with a palette in one hand and a brush in the other, whilst Ezio sat quietly, sulking.

"No, I'm not."

"But I want to know what happens!"

"Tough shit."

Leonardo exhaled loudly and turned to face Ezio, giving him a disapproving look.

"I _had_ to pull that arrow out, my friend. What else could I do?"

"You could've at least warned me," the assassin mumbled under his breath. "But no, you just yank it out. And you were smiling too! You cannot deny the fact that you were smiling! I saw it! Huh...? Ah, you're smiling again! Do not smile at my pain! You are so cruel to me."

"That is not true and we both know it," Leonardo retorted, trying to force back the smile that had upset Ezio for the second time that day. "But I am sorry. I didn't mean to offend you."

"Sure you didn't."

"Are you going to finish your story?"

Ezio finally cracked a smile and turned to look at his friend.

"Persistent, aren't we?"

"Your stories are intriguing. Only _you_ can get into trouble like you do," was Leonardo's prompt response, and he turned back to his painting.

Ezio's face went blank for a second before he burst out laughing. It was the kind of laugh that was extremely infectious and it sent shivers up the artist's spine. No, not the good kind of shivers. The _amazing_ kind.

"True... But I do believe I have overstayed my visit. Perhaps we should save my story for another day, hm?"

"You're leaving me with a cliffhanger? That isn't _fair_," Leonardo hissed.

"Many things in life aren't fair," Ezio replied, and it was that tone that made the artist realize that the younger man was going into that dark, brooding 'assassin mode' of his.

Turning away from his painting, he placed his brush and palette on the ground. He then straightened himself back up and smiled fondly at his closest amico.

"Be safe, my friend."

He outstretched his arms, in the obvious gesture of a hug.

There was a moment of pause, where Leonardo could see a trace of hesitation in Ezio's eyes. But then it was gone, the space between the two filled, and the artist could only smell cologne that seemed to be way too sweet to be on the neck of such a deadly man.

"Grazie, Leonardo," Ezio said softly.

And then he was gone.

Leonardo sighed to himself, picking his equipment back up off of the ground.

It was at that very moment when it had just sort of happened.

The nausea and tightness in his stomach, as well as his throat, snuck up on him again. Except this time he was ready for it, almost expecting it. There was no confusion as to where it came from, or when it would be leaving. It was just something that happened when Ezio was around. It would go away when Leonardo got distracted by something else. Which just happened to be the shiny object on the ground.

Walking over to it, Leonardo's quizzical expression quickly turned to one of amusement.

"Ah. His dagger."

_'Ezio, Ezio, Ezio,'_ Leonardo chuckled to himself, picking up the dagger and admiring the craftsmanship before walking back to his easel and placing it on the ground next to him.

"He will be back by nightfall."

And that was the day when Leonardo calmly realized that his feelings for his best friend were more than what they appeared to be.


	2. Due

AN: Eeeek. Thanks for the reviews. They made me extremely happy. As in 'I'm so happy I'm going to stare at your profile for eleven minutes, panting creepily against the screen of my computer, staring through this website, past interwebs, and into your bedroom as I use my left hand to draw pictures of your nude, sleeping body.' This is the part where I'm supposed to say, "Just kidding!" and then I'm also supposed to put a cute little smiley face like =^___^= right next to it. The only problem is that I'm not kidding. (And I fucking hate that smiley face.)  
P.S. I like Rosa. I really do. I didn't _try_ to make her a bitch or anything, that's just her personality. And there is a reason as to why she's acting like that. Which will be explained. Later.

WARNING TIEM: Slash and naughty words. Bang bang.

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Chapter Due:

WHAT IS THIS I DON'T EVEN 

-

Leonardo was a god. God with a capital G. _Hells_ to the YES.

Not only had he finished the painting of Antonio's 'home' on time, but he also had two whole hours to spare before midnight struck and he had to drag it out there.

Usually he wasn't the one who had to deliver his own paintings, but at the moment he didn't have any slav- uh, helpers around to make deliveries for him.

Not that it really bothered him that much at the moment. Because he was a fucking _god_.

He hummed a random song that he had probably just made up, as he placed a few finishing touches on the painting.

"Isn't that the painting you just started yesterday?" questioned an all too familiar voice from directly behind the humming artist, causing said artist to yelp and jump about a foot in the air.

"Ma-Ma_donna_! Ezio! Really! You need to start using the door!" Leonardo exclaimed.

There was a moment of silence between the two men. Which was brutally broken as Ezio burst into laughter.

"You_ – _You should've seen your _face_, Leonardo!" he managed to get out between snickers. "I thought you were going to fly right through the roof!"

"You are such a child, Ezio," Leonardo muttered as he turned back to his painting.

"That may be true, but at least I am not a scaredy cat like you. '_Madonna! Ezio! Really!_'" the assassin mimicked. Somehow, Leonardo's words coming out of his own mouth made him laugh even harder and by the time the artist had whirled around to glare at him, Ezio was doubled over, hands clutching at his sides.

"Ezio, really. It wasn't that funny. Settle down." And yet despite his own attempt at calming the other, Leonardo felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. Ezio's laughter was somewhat of a rarity since the man was usually too busy being alert and paranoid. It made the artist feel sort of special that he was one of the few people who the assassin could let his guard down around.

Meanwhile, Ezio's giggle-fest dragged on. The noise couldn't really be described as pleasant to the ears, but it did possess its own kind of awkward charm. It sounded as if he hadn't laughed in years, and was just remembering how.

The butterflies in the artist's stomach wouldn't let up.

Eventually, the laughter died down and the younger man took notice of Leonardo's amusement. "See?" he reasoned. "You find it humorous as well!"

Leonardo rolled his eyes, but smiled nonetheless.

"The only thing I find humorous is that the fact that mere seconds ago Ezio Auditore. the deadliest assassin in all of Italia, was laughing hysterically at something as stupid as simply _frightening_ me."

"Ah, but your expression was just so priceless. I wish you could have seen it. Perhaps it would make for an interesting self portrait..." Ezio chuckled when he came face to face with his friend's scowl.

"Drop it, Ezio."

"Si, si," came the smug reply. "Consider it dropped."

"So, mio amico, what can I do for you this evening?" Leonardo asked as he began putting away some of his art equipment.

"What do you mean?" The confusion was genuine, but there seemed to be something else that fell behind the tone. Leonardo refocused his attention on the assassin whose expression seemed to be one of shock.

"You are acting strange. I mean exactly what I say. What do you need from me?"

The pause lasted a little longer before a look of comprehension fell across Ezio's face. "Oh, right. The reason why I have come here, of course. I seem to have found a few more Codex Pages for you to decipher."

Instantly, Leonardo's expression lit up. "A few more?" he said eagerly, rushing over to stand next to his friend as he pulled several pages out of one of his many pockets. Practically snatching them from Ezio's hands, he stumbled back over to a random desk and immediately got to work.

"How exciting!" he exclaimed for what seemed like the millionth time to Ezio. It had been weeks since he had decoded a page, and Leonardo had begun to miss it.

"Hmm... Ah, I see... No, wait, that doesn't go there... How complex... Oh, but not complex enough... Maybe if I... Yes, that's it... Shuffle those letters, and... Interesting..."

Ezio responded with a small smile that the artist didn't see, and pushed his hood back up over his head.

"Mi dispiace, I cannot stay any longer. My uncle is expecting my arrival in Monteriggioni tomorrow morning, so I should get going."

"Alright. Have a safe trip. The pages will be complete by your return. Oh, and before I forget... Your dagger is by the door." the older man said over his shoulder.

"Ah... Really? I had thought I lost it yesterday. Grazie."

On his way out, Ezio found his dagger resting comfortably on what seemed to be a pillow... on a stool... on a chair. The assassin blinked a few times, wondering what was up with the pillow stool chair thing, but brushed it off. Hell, it was _Leonardo_. Everything that man did was strange... but there always seemed to be a reason behind the madness.

**XIXIX**

Leonardo spent the rest of his two hours on, obviously, the Codex Pages. But more of that later.

Right now, he was busy hauling his painting on to a gondola.

"Be – Be careful not to step on it!"

"Well that wouldn't be a problem, _signore_, if you didn't put it on the floor!"

Leonardo was not looking forward to spending the next twenty minutes of a gondola ride with this man. And despite his pacifistic ways, the artist decided that he wouldn't really mind if Ezio were to push him overboard like he had seen him do to so many other (innocent) gondoliers.

The thought made him snicker, which made the gondolier mad because he was a big fat meanie who didn't like it when people laughed. He also wore a rather funny looking hat.

After a long, painful silence, only broken by the gondolier to either spit into the water or sneeze, they got through the maze of canals and reached their destination.

"Thank you," was all the artist said before he grabbed his painting and made his way across the mini dock. Yeah, that's right. No tip.

Moments later, he was directly outside of Antonio's office. Here it was, his moment of victory. Where all of that hard work would pay off.

Leonardo raised a hand to the wooden door and knocked, and less than a second later he was face to face with... Rosa?

"Ah, Leonardo. Good evening to you," she said flatly, her hard stare contrasting with her words of welcome.

"Good evening to you as well, Rosa. Is Antonio here? I have his painting..."

"Leonardo da Vinci!" boomed Antonio's voice from behind Rosa. "Welcome back to my humble abode, mio amico! Rosa, get out of the way and let him inside."

As Rosa moved out of the doorway, Leonardo felt extremely uncomfortable. Did Antonio just call him his 'friend'? Something wasn't right, because the last time he came to see the master of thieves, the man had acted like he wanted to chase Leonardo out of Venezia. But then again, maybe that was because he thought he was wasting his money on something he didn't need.

The artist took a few steps inside, then suddenly became unsure if it would be to wise of him to stay any longer once he laid eyes on Antonio. The man was sitting behind his desk, leaning back, with his feet up.

That was obviously not the reason why Leonardo wanted to make a run for it.

Sprawled across the man's face was a huge grin. And not the nice kind of grin, either. It was an extremely creepy, lecherous grins. The kind of grin you see on someone who's up to no good.

Yeah. That kind of grin.

Leonardo tried to smile back, but could only really focus on the spikes of dread that embedded themselves into his stomach.

And then the door slammed behind him, the loud sound making him clutch the painting to his chest almost protectively. He whipped around only to see something that did not settle any of his fears; a huge, muscular man stared down at him.

"Leo," Antonio said with a small laugh, "you are acting like a skittish animal. We are not going to hurt you. Paolo is only here to make sure that no one is eavesdropping."

Leonardo looked from Antonio at his desk, to 'Paolo' guarding the door, to Rosa leaning against a bookshelf, and then back to Antonio. He took a deep breath, exhaled, and relaxed his shoulders a little. These were friends of Ezio's; he had no reason to be acting so jittery. He was safe here. And yet...

"Why don't you take a seat, da Vinci?" Antonio said, that creepy smile still lingering on his features.

"Grazie. Antonio, regarding the painting you commissioned –"

"Leonardo, there is a rumor going around that you are a woman," Rosa cut in.

"Rosa!" Antonio hissed, his expression turning into something vicious. "Silence your tongue!"

The thief chose to ignore her mentor's words, instead narrowing her eyes at Leonardo. "Is it true? Because quite honestly, it's not that difficult to believe. You act feminine enough. The only thing that confuses me is the stubble on your face. Do you stick it on somehow?"

Leonardo didn't know what to say. He was used to the rumors that constantly revolved around himself, but... but that one was just all types of awkward. A woman? He knew he wasn't considered the most manly person in town, but was really? And Rosa's words weren't all that necessary, either...

"Of course it isn't true!" Leonardo exclaimed after he got over his initial shock, the feeling quickly replaced by anger.

Rosa scoffed. "Per _favore_, Leonardo. I did not mean to upset you. I was merely inquiring," was Rosa's slightly sarcastic response.

He ignored the sarcasm.

"Inquiring!? It did not sound like you were 'merely inquiring'!" he spat, standing up from his seat. That had been it. That had been the final fucking straw. The gentle, sweet, and usually reserved Leonardo da Vinci had officially left the building, and in his wake stood a positively furious artist who was _this_ _close_ to grabbing that painting he had worked so hard on for the past two days and breaking the canvas in half. This whole damned week was turning out to be really quite awful.

"Christ, Leonardo. Calm down for a moment. You know that Rosa never thinks before she speaks. Please, sit," Antonio said smoothly, getting up from his seat from behind his desk and coming around to put his hand on Leonardo's shoulder.

After standing there fuming for a little longer, he complied.

"It is not that big of a deal," Rosa mumbled under her breath.

Antonio shook his head disapprovingly. "Women simply do _not_ understand the importance of masculinity to us men."

"But he is _gay_!"

Leonardo simply groaned, hiding his face in his hands. He hadn't been truly angry for what seemed like years, and he was too worn out by his own small outburst to say anything back to the woman.

Antonio let out a noise that almost sounded something like a snarl. That was when Rosa suddenly remembered that she had somewhere else to be, and she couldn't get out of the room quick enough. Once she had left, Antonio turned to Paolo.

"Leave us."

"Yes, sir."

And just like that, the two men were left alone. "Leonardo," the master of thieves sighed, "I offer you my sincerest apologies. Had I known she were going to ask you straight out like _that_, I never would have let her stay."

Something clicked in the artist's head. "Wait, so either way you were planning on asking me if – "

"Yes, but not like _she _did. I would've been more careful about it. Maybe something along the lines of, 'So, Leonardo, do you like dresses?' or 'What do you think of housework?'. I would have been sneaky."

"Farabutto."

"I try. Anyways... I truly am sorry."

"I... am sorry as well. I did not mean to make a scene like that. Please apologize to Rosa for me."

Antonio seemed to be put off. He almost said something, but stopped himself. The second time he opened his mouth, his tone was strained.

"You do know _why _rumors like that start, don't you?" he asked, tilting his head.

"Of course I do. People enjoy falsely accusing others of things that are hurtful and embarrassing."

"Well, yes, there's that. But there are also... other... reasons."

"Such as?"

**XIXIX**

"Leonardo, _wait_!"

Antonio's voice only made the artist quicken his pace down the narrow path to the mini-docks.

"Leonardo, slow down!"

No.

"Leonardo, please!"

Not happening.

"Leonardo, just listen to me!"

Nuh-uh.

"Leonardo, mio amico, come on!"

Leonardo was actually relieved to see the scowl on the gondolier's face.

"Leonardo!"

He then caught himself wondering, if he sang really loud in his head, might he be able to block out Antonio's voice?

By the time the master of thieves had caught up with him, Leonardo was already in the gondola.

"It was a completely innocent offer!"

That finally earned a response from the now blushing artist.

"Innocent or not, your words are degrading. I do not need your help with something like _that_ and it would be best for the both of us if we just pretend tonight never happened."

"Will you at least consider it?"

"Buona notte, Antonio," was Leonardo's response as the gondolier began to move the boat away from the docks and further down the waterway.

"I'm taking that as a 'maybe'!"

The artist resisted the urge to scream and found himself thinking of Ezio.


	3. Tre

AN: Seriously, I don't know what the hell is up with me and these chapter titles. (What? No, I don't have any strange fetishes that you guys should know about... cough...) Oh well, at least this one actually has something to do with the plot. Ehh. Anyways, thanks for the reviews. I'm a total review whore, so each one makes me have a joygasm. I don't think I have anything else to say, so I'll just shut up. For now.  
P.S. I love Antonio so fucking much. :D

WARNING TIEM: Heterosexual relationships and a lack of cuss words, ahoy! Heh, just kidding. ;)

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Chapter Tre

SO I HERD U LIEK EZIO

-

The biggest problem with waking up after a night of heavy, almost lethal drinking was, um, _waking up_. Now, you're probably thinking 'No shit, Sherlock,' but even though the statement is quite obvious, you'd be surprised how often people forget about this important fact.

That morning, Leonardo had been no exception. As he slowly returned to consciousness, the only question that kept resurfacing in his mind was '_Why, in all that is righteous and logical, did I think it was a good idea to drink a whole bottle of rum last night?_', to which his mind promptly responded, '_Because last night you were accused of being a woman_'. And that made everything awwwwwight.

Prying his eyes apart using muscles that he didn't even know existed in his face, he was greeted by the big, fat, smiling sun through an open window. Which really wasn't the first thing you'd want to see when dealing with a hangover of epic proportions. Just in case you didn't know.

Leonardo could only groan, rolling over on to his stomach to hide from the headache inducing light. He then proceeded to take the ends of his cape and attempted wrapping himself up like a cocoon.

It didn't help. It didn't help at all.

After a few beats of silence, it dawned on the man that he had no idea where the fuck he was. Which was another not so good thing about super-hangovers. Amnesia sucked to an extreme.

'_Maybe I could just open my eyes for a moment and deal with the pain... Just to see where I am..._' he tried to reason to himself.

'_Or maybe you could just lie here for another hour or two... If you were in any danger, you would know by now. And besides, it's not like you have anywhere important to be,_' another part of him reasoned back.

Leonardo had to admit, the second option sounded much more appealing than the first. Too bad life never really worked that way. A sharp knock at what sounded like a door brought the artist out of his dazed stupor.

"Messer Leonardo! Hello? Are you home?"

Well, that solved the mystery of where he was.

"Helloooo?" The knocking continued, getting louder and louder by the second. Poor Leonardo couldn't stop cringing.

Finally, when he realized that whoever was knocking at his door _would not go away_, he considered getting up and answering it. However, that 'second option' voice came back and told him that if it were meant to be, then the annoying person would realize that the door was unlocked (like it always was) and would then come inside, thus rendering any of Leonardo's actions completely unnecessary.

Yeah, the person did eventually figure out the unlocked door thing by himself, which made Leonardo feel extremely smart. Upon hearing the door creak open, the artist hoped that he was somewhat presentable.

"Messer Leonardo? Ah, there you are!"

Leonardo replied with something mixed between a growl and a wail. Either way, he sounded like a strange, wounded, mentally challenged animal.

"I did not know you drank so heavily, sir," the voice continued. "Here, let me help you up."

The next thing Leonardo knew, gentle hands were unwrapping his cape from around him and helping him into a sitting position. The artist immediately shielded his eyes from the sun's assault with the back of his hand.

"There, better?"

"Mm. No," Leonardo rasped, his voice scratchy and strained. "I can still see the sun."

"Would you like me to draw the curtains, sir?"

"It's fine... I need to get up anyways."

"Anything you'd like me to get you?"

"Water, please," he replied. As he heard the person begin to walk away, he removed his protective hand from his eyes and watched the frame of the young man enter the kitchen. Who _was_ that? His voice was so familiar, and yet he couldn't remember who the hell it was.

When he tried to stand up, a wave of extreme pain crashed through his head. The world seemed to bend and twist and blur before him; everything was so fuzzy, so fuzzy, so fuzzy. Why wasn't the ground as close as it should be?

"Signore! Sit down, or you will fall over," he heard the youth scold. Turning unsteadily to face the other, Leonardo squinted to try and clear the haze that lingered over his vision.

"Who are you?" At least he got to the point.

"You do not recognize me?" was the response he got as he felt himself being walked over to a chair.

"If I recognized you, would I be asking who you are?"

A pause.

"You are much grumpier than I recall, signore. It is me, your assistant, Adolfo De Luca. You hired me about a week ago."

Then it came back to him. The messy dark hair, amber eyes, and crooked smile weren't much to remember the child by since most sixteen-year-old boys in Italia look like that anyways.

Wait... If he had hired him a week ago...

"Where have you been for the past week, Adolfo?" Leonardo asked as he sat down on the chair he was brought to.

The boy smirked, and the artist was suddenly wondering how Ezio was doing.

"I really have no clue. All I remember is that I went outside to get your mail. Next thing I know, I have a family and a social life."

Leonardo chuckled at that, but the humor was short lived; the action brought on another wave of pain through his cranium.

"Mi dispiace," the artist said. "but I have no work for you today. Perhaps you should just go home."

"Are you sure? I could help you organize in here..."

"Si, si, I'm sure," he answered immediately. There was no way in hell Leonardo was going to organize his workshop with a hangover. No way in _hell_. "Come back tomorrow. For now... can I have that water you promised me?"

"Ah! Of course, my apologies!" and with that, the boy ran back into the kitchen.

Leonardo smiled at the boy's forgetfulness, and adjusted his... hat?

His hat wasn't on his head.

His _hat_ wasn't on his head.

His hat wasn't on his _head_.

_His fucking hat wasn't on his head._

**XIXIX**

After a mini-meltdown (a.k.a, _smashing everything within a 5-foot radius_), Leonardo found his hat in a pretty peculiar place. It was inside a false bottom inside a hidden drawer behind a locked drawer.

"What the hell is it, the map to Atlantis?" Adolfo had commented.

After his assistant left, Leonardo didn't do much. He just went through his planner to realize he didn't really have a lot going on that month, tried to stay away from loud noises / bright objects, ate lunch, and then remembered that he had at least one or two Codex Pages left to decipher. He also worried about Ezio, but that wasn't anything new.

The next few days passed in pretty much the same fashion. There wasn't anything to do, and it was starting to bother Leonardo. He hadn't heard from anyone, the only social stimulation he received being from Adolfo who, despite his quirks, wasn't all that interesting. Just another person to fill another space in another conversation in another day of his life.

Usually Leonardo used these 'nothing days' to invent, sketch, and write. Unfortunately for him, his mind was too clouded to really be able to do anything productive. He was still upset about _you-know-what. _The thing that bothered him the most was Antonio.

"_For the right price, I'll teach you..._"

Leonardo shook off the memory every time it presented itself in his mind, instead focusing his attention on something else.

Eventually the days turned into a week, and the week turned into two weeks, and the two weeks... Well, the two weeks didn't turn into anything else. It had been two weeks. Two extremely long weeks. Two weeks since he had done anything relatively creative. Two weeks since he had last seen anyone of importance. Two weeks since he had last seen Ezio.

Hadn't Ezio told him that he'd be back in a matter of _days_? Leonardo tried not to fuss over it, but it was kind of difficult. He knew that being an assassin wasn't the safest job around... But Ezio knew how to take care of himself. Right?

When Leonardo thought about things like that, he got nervous. When he got nervous, he went for walks. When he was nervous and on a walk, he was a lot less perceptive.

Which brings us to the next part in this story. Leonardo was walking through Venezia, trying his hardest to clear his mind by surrounding himself with beautiful things, when all of a sudden, bam. He walked right into someone. Which isn't as fun as one might think it to be. Especially if the person is wearing armor.

"Hey, watch where you're – Ah, Leo! Just the man I wanted to see!"

Ah, Antonio. Just the man Leonardo _didn't_ want to see. The artist gave him a blank stare, emptying his face of all emotion as he tried to turn his eyes into dark, bottomless voids. Then he turned on a heel, and began walking in the opposite direction.

"Leonardo, don't run away from me!" the master thief whined, following the other at an equally fast pace.

"I am not running, Antonio. I am quickly walking."

"I'm not going to bother you about the other night! I just wanted to talk to you. Please?" The desperateness in Antonio's tone made Leonardo pause. The artist had never really been able to hold a grudge for over a month, no matter how angry he got. He stopped walking, and turned to face the other man.

"What is it?" Leonardo sounded skeptical, even to his own ears.

Antonio leaned in a little closer. "Have you heard about Claudia?"

"Ezio's sister?"

"Si, the very one. Have you heard?"

"Heard about what?"

"She is engaged to some nobleman."

"Ah, really? That's nice." To be honest, Leonardo didn't really care. Claudia was a sweet girl, even if she was a little spoiled, but the artist didn't know her well enough to be gossiping about her love life.

"But that's not it. Apparently she has been sneaking around with another!"

"Oh?" Once again, couldn't care less.

"The whole thing is giving Mario a full head of gray hair."

"That'd be quite a feat," Rosa said, materializing out of nowhere behind Antonio, "considering that man doesn't have a full head of hair to begin with."

"Rosa. So nice of you to join us," Antonio said with a grin.

"Buongiorno, Antonio. Buongiorno, Leonardo."

"Buongiorno, Rosa. How are you?" the artist asked politely.

"I am fine. I wish to apologize for how I was behaving the other night. I was in a foul mood; I didn't mean to take it out on you," she replied, smiling.

"I would like to apologize as well," he said. "I shouldn't have yelled at you. Especially since you are a lady."

Leonardo's words caused Rosa to deadpan, before she threw back her head and laughed. "Me? A lady? You are polite, signore. Too polite. And maybe a bit foolish as well."

There was a comfortable lull in the conversation before she spoke again.

"I overheard you speaking of Claudia, Antonio."

It was as if someone had electrocuted the master thief with jolts of interest. "Si, have you _heard_?"

Around that time, Leonardo began to tune the two out. Gossip was just so... dull. He wished he could just turn around and leave, but that would be considered rude, wouldn't it? So he focused on a blade of grass growing through a crack in the stone pavement. It made him wonder what it would be like to be that blade of grass. Confused. All alone. Wondering what it was like to be surrounded by it's own kind. But it wouldn't ever know. It would always be there, until it died. Or until someone pulled it out of the ground. It would never know about its relatives. It wouldn't have any grass friends. It didn't have anyone to talk to. All it had was the pavement, and the sounds of Venezia.

Leonardo found himself feeling extremely sad for the little blade of grass.

"Hey, is that Ezio over there?" Antonio asked.

"H – Huh? Ezio?" His head shot up only to see that Antonio was smirking, while Rosa rolled her eyes.

"We've been trying to get your attention for the past three minutes. I guess now we know the magic word. Or name, rather."

Leonardo flushed. That wasn't nice, and he told them just as much. Then he added, almost sheepishly, "Have you heard from Ezio recently?"

"Yes," was all Antonio said. Really, that's all he said. After that, he was awkwardly quiet for a few more seconds.

"And?" The artist pressed.

"And what?"

"What did he _say_?"

"Oh. He said he, uh, wouldn't be back for another few days."

Something told Leonardo that Antonio wasn't telling him everything. Naturally, he began to worry.

"He's okay, right? He's not... hurt or anything, is he?"

Antonio chuckled. "You worry about him like a mother hen. It's quite adorable." The thief decided not to tease Leonardo about that any further though, once he saw the venomous glower sent in his direction. He got right to the point. "Ezio is perfectly fine. Well, except for the fact that his little sister is considering eloping. He's handling it much better than Mario, though. Even though he left Monteriggioni almost as soon as he got the news..."

"He's not in Monteriggioni?"

"Did I say that?"

Leonardo frowned. "You are hiding something from me."

"Mio dio, Antonio!" Rosa exclaimed, finally speaking up. "You are making this worse than it already is! I do not, and will probably never understand why men are always sneaking around. It isn't even a big deal. Ezio is at a friend's home somewhere in Tuscany."

Antonio groaned and covered his eyes with a hand. "Rosa, you are so _difficult_. Can you not keep your mouth quiet for a day? There was a reason why I didn't wish to say anything."

The artist was confused, and the look on his face said as much. "I do not understand. Why make me worry when you could have just told me from the start that he was with a friend?"

"Leonardo, Leonardo, Leonardo," Antonio sighed dramatically, taking a few steps forward and placing both hands on the other man's shoulders. "You are so naive. I envy that in you. Ignorance is bliss, is it not?"

"Excuse me?"

Antonio shook his head, dark hair barely moving behind him. "It must be nice to be invulnerable to the world's problems by means of incomprehension..." he said with mock sorrow.

"Antonio, you are not making any sense."

Rosa snickered.

"Let's just get right down to business. You like Ezio, don't you?"

"Of course I do. He is my closest friend."

"No, no," the master thief tried to clarify. "I mean... You _like _Ezio, don't you?"

"I don't understand what you're... Oh."

And then Leonardo da Vinci punched Antonio in the mouth.

Not even _Jesus_ saw that shit coming.


	4. Quattro

AN: You know what I've realized? I write these Author's Notes, not because I want to, but because I _need_ to. Seriously. I have to write them. No one reads them, but I _have to write them_. OCD much? Fuck. So I didn't fix the rum problem because I'm super paranoid that all my reviews will go poof. Thank you anyways, Kaligoddess! About this chapter; don't expect much humor in here. It's just more expedition. Because that's how you write a story. Gotta give it some depth. It's sort of a short chapter, too... Yup, if you haven't caught on yet, I'm completely self-conscious about this one. Sorry. Haha. Moving right along... I need to explain the whole 'Ezio isn't gay' thing that Antonio talks about in this chapter. It's hard for me to believe that Ezio would be 100 percent homo when in the game he's such a player. It's much more likely for him to be bisexual. So that's what he's gonna be in this story. Just sayin'. Finally, I'd like to give a big thanks to all of the reviewers! You boys and girls have been making my days a whole lot brighter. :D  
P.S. Word count is over nine thousaaaaaaaand.

WARNING TIEM: If you've gotten this far, I really don't think I need to warn you anymore. :/

* * *

Chapter Quattro

MY PIMP HAND IS STRONG

-

It was like an orgasm for his state of mind. There were no thoughts, positive or negative. The world only consisted of the throbbing in his knuckles, the adrenaline rushing through his body, and the ground beneath his feet. It was beautiful. For the first time in two weeks, he was relaxed. He was relaxed and happy.

Leonardo had only truly realized what he had done two minutes later.

"You... You _punched_ me," Antonio said with wide eyes. The impact hadn't done much (he only had a split lip) but the fact that Leonardo da Vinci had just slugged him was a bit of a shock. The artist seemed to be just about as shocked himself.

"Antonio, I'm so sorr-"

"You _punched_ me! In the _face_!"

Rosa, who had been silenced by surprise, now began to laugh.

"Antonio, per favore, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to-"

"In the _face_!"

"I'm sorry!"

Though Antonio should have been angry, his expression didn't show anything but pure disbelief. Even when he yelled, he didn't sound upset. Just confused.

"I thought you were against violence!"

Leonardo sighed, unsure how to respond to that. He _was_ against violence. It was wrong and he would never resort to it again. No matter how stress relieving it was, Leonardo would resist the temptation.

"Come, follow me back to my workshop. I will treat that cut so it does not get infected," Leonardo said softly. Antonio didn't reply, he just pressed two fingers against his bleeding lip.

Rosa grinned. "Do not waste your breath, Leonardo. I think he is in too much shock to say anything right now." She grabbed the thief by the wrist and began pulling him along. "Lead us to your shop."

**XIXIX**

As soon as the artist finished cleaning up Antonio's split lip, the problem started.

The problem _naturally_ being Antonio.

"Lesson number one," he said as Leonardo turned to put his medical kit away. "Do not apologize."

"What?" the artist asked, pausing to look back up at the other man who was sitting rather comfortably on a lounge chair.

Antonio grinned using only one side of his mouth, as to not disrupt his small wound. "Men do not apologize over such trivial things like a thrown punch. I made you angry, so it was perfectly acceptable for you to strike me. I will admit that I did not know you had it in you, mio amico. I am proud."

Leonardo could only stare, his mouth slightly ajar. Then he recalled Antonio's words from a few weeks ago, and he felt himself bristle.

"I – I thought I told you that I did not need help with things like that! You said you weren't going to bother me about the other night anymore!"

"Let me guess," Rosa said with a groan from across the room. "He offered to teach you 'How to be a Man'."

"Actually, Rosa..." Antonio cut in swiftly. "I was thinking more along the lines of 'How to be Dominant'. Doesn't that have a much nicer ring to it? 'How to be a Man' sounds so... barbaric."

"_You_ are barbaric, you cretino!" Rosa exclaimed.

"Yes, but that's beside the point."

"Ugh! I cannot believe you! Leonardo, do not listen to a word this man says. He is just an old thief who is way too full of himself!"

And on that rather unhappy note, Rosa stormed out of the workshop.

"I'm not old..." Antonio mumbled dejectedly, furrowing his brows.

"Perhaps you should leave," Leonardo stated uncomfortably, pretending to busy himself with something in his medical kit.

"Leo. You know me by now, don't you? You know that I have a bit of what one would call a... stubborn streak. Even if I were to leave right now, I would not leave you alone until you agreed to take me up on my offer."

The artist flushed and whirled around to glare at the thief. "Antonio, I do not need _you_ of all people to teach me how to be a man!"

"Who else would teach you, then?"

"I do not need anybody to teach me! I _like_ the way I am! And if you were any friend of mine, then you would _respect_ that and get _out_ of my house!"

That shut Antonio up. For about five seconds.

"Leo, mio amico, I am not saying that you should turn yourself into another person... I am just trying to help you!"

Leonardo narrowed his eyes. "So far, your 'help' has not been very helpful..."

"That is because you haven't actually let me help you yet."

"And what, pray tell, do I need help with?"

Antonio stood up from his seat and gave another sardonic half-smile. "We already covered that, didn't we? But you punched me before we could discuss it any further."

The artist didn't know it was possible for his face to be as red as it was then. "Ezio has nothing to do with this..."

Antonio rolled his eyes. "Leonardo, please. We don't have the time for this cliché '_I-don't-know-what-you're-talking-about-I-don't-like-Ezio-that-way_' bullshit. You like him. You know it, I know it, Rosa knows it... My God, anyone who has _eyes_ knows it."

"But I -"

"No buts, my friend. I'm not going to go through another day of this 'oh-so-oblivious' nonsense!"

Leonardo paused for a moment, then laughed warmly. "Antonio, you are an interesting person."

"So is that a yes? You will allow me to teach you all the basics of being masculine?" The artist could practically see the eagerness in the man's eyes. Well, maybe he could learn something of remote interest... And it would also result in Antonio getting off his fucking case about it.

"I will consider it."

Antonio visibly deflated. "That is not what I..." Leonardo quirked a brow in his direction, which caused the man to exhale sharply. "Bene, bene... I suppose that is better than nothing."

The master thief began walking towards the door, his eyes focused solely on Leonardo's. "But please know that I expect you to have an answer by tomorrow night, Leonardo. If you do not come to me, I will find you."

The way Antonio said that made Leonardo a little uneasy, so he decided not to say anything about not having enough time to make a decision. Sometimes it was really easy to forget that the man was a killer. "Very well. I will be in your area around then."

"Oh, and Leonardo?"

"Si?"

"I hope you do not honestly think that you are the only man who finds Ezio attractive," he said flatly, leaning against the door.

The artist paled. "W – What? You... You think Ezio is-"

"Of course not," Antonio replied, mildly disgusted. "I'm just warning you."

"I don't understand what you're trying to say," said Leonardo.

"I'm talking about that 'friend' in Tuscany. I heard he's moving to Venezia in a few weeks. Which is a good thing and a bad thing, all in the same ugly package."

Leonardo still didn't understand, and his expression conveyed just about as much.

"Do I need to spell it out for you? Mio dio, and I thought you were supposed to be the smart one... That friend of Ezio's? He is a complete man whore. So if you're going to win Ezio over, we had better hurry up."

"Antonio! When did this turn into me winning Ezio over!? We don't even know if Ezio is gay or not!"

"Of course he isn't gay. He loves women. But that doesn't mean that he can't like men as well... And when was it _not_ about you winning Ezio over?" Antonio smirked. "I will see you tomorrow, Leo." And just like that, the thief was gone.

Leonardo was still standing in the same place five minutes later. His mind was on overload. There was too much to worry about, to think of... He had never given much thought to the future, which worked out just fine for the artist. There were no promises to be made and no dreams to be broken. There were just days to be filled.

But now... Now he needed to consider the future. Leonardo had feelings for Ezio that went beyond brotherly love, sure. But were his feelings really that deep? Did he really like him that much? Enough to have to deal with Antonio and his stupid 'lessons'? Enough to actually _compete_ with a total stranger for the assassin's affection? Enough to risk severing one of the closest relationships he had ever had? What if Ezio didn't want anything more from Leonardo besides friendship? What if Ezio wasn't even interested in men?

Leonardo was nervous about all of the drama that was sure to take place over the next few weeks.

But, like always, he was curious.

(Actually, that was a lie. He was just scared shitless of what would happen if he didn't show up at Antonio's place the next night.)


	5. Cinque

AN: Hey, kids! :D So I saw Pee Wee Herman's show live the other night, and... Oh my God, it was so much fun. He was fucking hilarious, which was something I didn't expect. If any of you have seen the show, then all I have to say to you is: THAT BALLOON. Sorry, I hate inside jokes, but I really had to get that one off my chest... Here, I'll make it better. I'll tell an inside joke that only AC2 fans will know about: FLYING MACHINE PISSY FIT. There. Do you love me now? Wait, did you just say no? D:  
P.S. One hundred points to whoever finds the hidden ED quote. Also... I feel like I have to apologize about the Leo lion pun. It's just that I've been wanting to do that for a while now, ahaha.

WARNING TIEM: What.

* * *

Chapter Cinque

ENJOY YOUR HAND

-

It is not known with certainty what the causes of insanity are, but it's probably a safe bet that it has something to do with dirty whores drinking too much alcohol while they had rotting little shit-bags festering in their guts.

Leonardo didn't think his mother was a dirty whore, but he wasn't feeling all that secure about his state of mind at the moment, so he wouldn't be surprised if he got a letter in the mail from some faraway brothel some time in the near future...

Now why, you may ask, was the artist contemplating the fact that he might need to be committed to the nearest insane asylum? Well that was because there he was, standing in Antonio's office, just a few words away from saying 'yes' to the man's offer to teach him a few... things.

Leonardo was almost positive that this would be the end of him.

"Ah, Leo! I'm glad you made it. I was beginning to worry that you had forgotten about me," Antonio said with a warm smile. It would've been comforting to the already edgy Leonardo. Except the smile was just _too_ warm. Like a creepy '**best friends forever**' smile. Yeah. I'm sure _you_ know about that kind of smile, don't you? You sick fuck.

"So, have you made your decision?"

"Yes... I suppose I have no other choice but to accept your offer," said Leonardo. He didn't want to go through with this. He really didn't. And when the master thief's 'warm' smile got wider, the artist felt more nervous than he had been before.

"Perfect!" Antonio exclaimed with vigor, clasping his hands together and sauntering over towards Leonardo. (Yes, _sauntering._) "I knew you'd come around. Now all we have to do is discuss the price."

The what?

"You never told me that I had to -"

"Do not fret, my dear Leonardette! It is a fairly reasonable price for such a rare service. I only offer this to my _closest_ friends."

Leonardo decided to ignore the silly rhyme and nickname, instead choosing to eye the man skeptically. "What do you want?" He could only hope that it was just florins that Antonio wanted, and not something socially unacceptable, immoral, or uncomfortable. Then again, this was _Antonio_ we were talking about.

"10,000 florins in total."

Leonardo almost let out a sigh of relief. Thank you, God.

"When do you want me to pay?"

"On your first day of 'Macho Training'," replied Antonio cheerfully.

The artist blinked a few times. "Did you just honestly call it 'Macho Training'?"

"... No."

A sharp knock at the door brought the two men out of the awkward silence. Leonardo tilted his head. "I did not know you were expecting company."

"Quickly, Leonardo, get in the closet. And don't make a sound while you're in there."

"The closet? Why? Is everything okay? Who is this person?"

Antonio chuckled. "You worry too much. It is just Ezio. You are going to spy on our conversation."

"Wh- What!? I thought you said he wasn't coming back for a few _days_!"

"I did?" The master thief's tone was unapologetic as he moved fluidly behind Leonardo, grabbing him by the cape and roughly dragging him over to the closet in the corner. "I suppose I lied then, didn't I?"

A cruel smirk was the last thing Leonardo saw before Antonio threw him into the cramped room and closed the door behind him. And then it was dark. Leonardo almost screamed out of pure frustration, but he didn't, because duh, he was supposed to be 'spying'. So he cracked the door open a little bit, and watched the scene intently.

"Ezio! It is so wonderful to see you again, my friend," the thief exclaimed when he opened the door.

"Good to see you too, Antonio. It has been a while since our last letter." Ezio pulled his hood down and smiled, but the gesture didn't meet his eyes.

Antonio noticed.

"Is something the matter?" asked the thief with a concerned look, which shocked the fuck out of Leonardo. He wasn't aware that Antonio was capable of showing, you know, _emotion_.

Ezio issued a hollow laugh in the thief's direction as he slid easily into the room. "I am fine, Antonio. Really."

"If you insist. But you know you can tell me anything. I am your friend, no?"

"Si. You are my friend."

The lull in the conversation was uncomfortable, making the air thick and stale. But Antonio seemed oblivious to its effects. It didn't take him very long to break the silent spell that Ezio had cast over the room.

"So, how was Tuscany?"

The assassin brightened a little. "It was pleasant. I had forgotten what it was like to simply relax."

"Ah? Yes, I'm sure you did a lot of _relaxing_ over there," Antonio said with a snort.

Ezio just shrugged, but couldn't hide the suggestive grin that spread across his face. Leonardo gripped the door handle a little tighter than necessary. What? Jealous? Of course he wasn't jealous. That was preposterous. Why would you even think that? The very idea!

"So, how was your friend? What was his name...? Carlo? Camillo? Casanova?"

"His name is Celio, and you know it. I understand that you aren't very fond of him, but at least get his name right," Ezio said, giving the master thief a mock glare. "But... he is well, I suppose."

"You suppose?"

"It is just that... He wants to move to Venezia, only because it is the city that I visit most."

"So I've heard. Does it really bother you that much? I thought you enjoyed attention."

"I do, I do..." The assassin's expression of distaste turned into a smirk. "You know me too well, amico."

Once again. Gripping the door handle a leeeettle too tightly. But not out of jealousy! Oh, no. Of _course_ not.

Antonio's laughter filled the room, and all traces of earlier awkwardness between the two evaporated into the air.

"Ezio, why don't you sit down? I will open bottle of red wine, if you'd like some."

"Grazie. That would be lovely."

**XIXIX**

Three hours and two bottles of wine later, Leonardo was starting to get leg cramps. Plus there was something that felt an awful lot like the handle of a sword trying to charm its way past his pants and into his ass. And just in case you're wondering; _yeah_, it _does_feel as weird as it sounds. There wasn't enough room to sit down, or move around, or get comfortable, and even if there was enough room... well, he'd make too much noise. And then Ezio would figure out he was in the fucking closet (uhurhur) and things would get really, really weird.

But not as weird as the conversation Antonio was just about to have with the younger man.

"Tell me this, Ezio; do you find men sexually attractive?"

Leonardo had to hold back a groan of disbelief. Really, Antonio? Really?

The assassin didn't look surprised, though. He just flashed a smile. "Why do you ask?"

Antonio took a sip of wine from his glass. "There have been rumors about you and Celio."

"Those are just rumors..." Ezio said loftily, waving the question away with his hand.

"Yes, but usually rumors die down after a week or two. The entire city of Tuscany has been gossiping about you for the past couple of months."

"You know what the people over there are like. Always thirsting for passionate homosexual love affairs to chat about."

"That is also true... but you have been seen kissing Celio's brother, and _he_ is definitely a man."

"Ah," said Ezio, raising his eyebrows and grinning. "That's what _you_ think."

"So basically, what you're trying to say here is that you are a closet-case nymphomaniac."

"Pardon?"

A swift knock at the door interrupted their conversation. Antonio stood up from his seat, walking with a bit of an exaggerated swagger over to the entrance.

"Who is it?"

"Signore! It is me, Paolo!"

The door opens, the giant enters.

"Mi dispiace, I did not know you had company... I just wanted to tell you that Rosa won't accept the letter you told me to give her. She's quite upset."

Ezio grinned and leaned back in his chair. "Oh? I wonder what Antonio has done now?"

Paolo turned his attention to the lounging assassin. "I do not know the specifics, but I believe it has something to do with Leo-"

"A lion? I did not know Rosa was upset over a lion. I did not know Rosa liked lions. How delightfully absurd," Antonio cut in with a nervous laugh and a forced smile.

"What? No, I was going to say Leo-"

"Si, si, we all speak Italian here. You do not need to explain our own language to us, Paolo. Really."

Ezio eyed the two suspiciously, but didn't say anything. Leonardo had to stifle a snicker.

"But I..." Paolo tried to explain, however, upon seeing Antonio's pointed glare he realized that whatever he was bringing up, the master thief didn't want Ezio knowing about it.

"But I don't understand why she's so upset about that portrait of the lion. I know it was an antique piece of art, but surely it cannot be that important to her," Paolo said smoothly.

Antonio scoffed, not missing a beat. "_Women_. We will _never_ understand them."

The artist felt himself grin. He himself didn't like lying, but it certainly was fun watching it in action. Especially when it involved two thieves making up a total crap story on the spot, trying to trick an assassin of all fucking people into believing that someone like Rosa, who had no interest in art whatsoever, was genuinely upset that her 'portrait of a lion' was ruined. He wondered if Ezio would call the master thief out on his bullshit now or later.

"Well Paolo, it was a pleasure having you. Even if our whole conversation was completely pointless."

The giant man nodded, and couldn't have looked more relieved to get out of that room. As soon as the door closed behind him, Leonardo began counting down the seconds until Ezio started in on the failure that went by the name of Antonio.

However, to his surprise, Ezio did not mention it, and actually changed the subject.

"So... What have you been doing lately?" the assassin questioned with a quirk of his lips, loosening his grip on his wine glass, and polishing off the last of the drink.

"Oh, you know. The usual. Sneaking around, pickpocketing from innocent civilians, pushing guards into the canals..."

Ezio chuckled at that last remark, and then he paused. "Have you... spoken with Leonardo recently?" The slightly desperate tone in his voice told that he had probably wanted to ask that question all night.

"Perhaps. Is that what was bothering you when I let you in earlier?" Shit. Antonio could be really perceptive sometimes.

"I suppose it was."

"Why? Did something happen between you two?"

"No, it's just that..." Ezio looked almost embarrassed for a moment, but as per fucking usual his extremely large, throbbing ego would have none of that; the emotion was swept off his face in a matter of seconds. "I stopped by his workshop before I came here."

"Oh? Did you speak with him?"

"No. He wasn't there." The assassin looked mildly upset, but it was obvious that he was much more disappointed than he let on. Leonardo was torn between the butterflies in his stomach and slight irritation. Because God forbid the artist actually had a _social life_ and decided to _go_ _out_ for once and have a _good_ _time, _right Ezio?

"Is that why you're upset? Because he wasn't there?" Antonio asked, concealing a grin.

"No, of course not. I'm not _that_ controlling, Antonio. It's just that when I got there, his assisstant – Adolfo, or something – told me that he was 'busy taking lessons' with his 'boyfriend'."

Leonardo almost puked up a lung.

Antonio seemed just about ready to do the same.

But Ezio took no notice of the master thief's extremely horrified expression, or of the gagging sounds coming from the closet. "I mean, it's not like I'm jealous or anything."

Now where have we heard that one before?

"You – You know how children are! They always try to instigate trouble. Their dirty little minds are on the constant lookout for potential victims. Leonardo does not have a boyfriend, I can assure you. Maybe he's just with a close friend. Besides," Antonio added, giving the assassin a rather smug look, "why do _you_ care?"

"I already told you. I am _not _jealous," said Ezio with a small frown.

"I didn't ask you if you were jealous, did I? I asked 'why do you care'? And I deduce that because your response was defensive, you most definitely _are_ jealous, because you _do_ care. You are just in denial."

Ezio narrowed his eyes at the man. "I am not!"

"I guess it makes sense. Leonardo certainly is attractive enough... But doesn't he dissect dead bodies all day?"

"That's not-"

"I'm sure you must seem pretty lively compared to most of the guys he's worked on, wouldn't you agree?"

"Listen," the assassin growled, "if you don't shut up this instant, I will wedge this retractable blade so far up your ass that your _children_ will have trouble walking. Is that clear?"

"All right, all right, calm down..." Antonio said with a huge, shit-eating grin.

A pause.

"You want to fuck Leonardo da Vinci."

That was the second time within 48 hours that Antonio had gotten nailed in the face.

Except this time, he was left with a black eye and a crooked nose.

**XIXIX**

"Do you ever consider people and their emotions before you open your mouth speak?" asked Leonardo. It had been at least an hour since Ezio had stormed out, and the artist was glad to finally have the feeling back in his legs.

"No, not really. My heart, sex drive, and guilt-bone shriveled up many years ago, so I'm incapable of noticing those sorts of things," Antonio replied, holding back a yelp as Leonardo cracked his nose back into place. (... Sex drive?)

"What was the point of that?" the artist continued on, as if he hadn't heard Antonio's words. "Were you trying to see how far you could push him until he snapped?"

"I was just trying to show you that – along with that _bastardo_ Celio – you have a chance with him," replied Antonio with a totally innocent smile. Which looked kind of creepy, coming from him.

"Are you trying to say that you let yourself be almost beaten to a bloody pulp because you wanted to _motivate_ me?"

"Isn't that what friends are for?"

"You know, for some really odd reason, I find it difficult to trust you."

Antonio looked hurt for a moment, but then he smiled cheerfully. "I am sure you'll regret those words by the time I'm through with you. Speaking of which, your lessons start tomorrow."

The artist gaped. "Tomorrow? Isn't that a bit soon?"

The thief shrugged. "No. Unless, of course, you'd rather have Tuscan-Boy rubbing his greasy fingers all over your precious Ezio and staining his extremely tight, revealing tunic with his slime. In that case, all I have to say to you is, 'Enjoy your hand, Leonardo! And don't forget to clean yourself up afterwards!'"

"... Tomorrow it is, then."


	6. Sei

AN: Ugh. Sorry about the late update. Just kill me now. Preferably with a butter knife. So that way, my death will be slow and painful. Because I deserve it. Whine, whine, whine. Oh, and if anyone actually gets the chapter title... Then you get five e-points. (And you're also an official nerd.) :D Also thought I'd mention that there are a few politically incorrect things in here about being 'masculine'. I don't really agree with most of it, but this was the Renaissance. So get the fuck over it.  
P.S. I'm too lazy to reread this chapter to look for any flaws. If you see a mistake, feel free to point it out.

WARNING TIEM: Homosexual man lurrrve. And an extra helping of curse words.

* * *

Chapter Sei

DAWN OF LESSON ONE: 24 HOURS REMAIN

-

Among many other animals, Leonardo really liked birds. Especially the boring ones. Growing up, he had only sketched bright, exotic birds. However, as he got older, the more he began to notice the beauty behind the 'uninteresting' animals that people always took for granted. There was a short period of time where he only sketched the underdogs (Or underbirds, if you want to be a jackass.) But he then began to feel bad for the colorful birds. It was unfair to them, not being sketched!

Nowadays, he tried to sketch every bird he saw. It wasn't particularly easy, but it made him feel happy and kind of complete. (Loser.)

And that's why Rosa found the artist perched on a chair next to his window, sketching a tiny sparrow with a content smile on his face.

"What are you waiting for, Leonardo!?" bellowed the woman from the entrance of his workshop, effectively startling the bird into flight. "You are supposed to be in Antonio's office right now! Not perving over a fucking bird!"

Yeah, if you couldn't tell, she had already gotten over Antonio being 'barbaric'. Now she was practically forcing Leonardo to show up for his lessons.

"Rosa! Good morning," he said with a grin as he put his sketchbook down.

"Get up," was her only response as she stalked over to him, roughly grabbing him by the cape and dragging him out of the house.

Eleven minutes later, he was standing in front of a rather excited Antonio. The master thief's black eye had seemed to magically disappear overnight. "Leonardo, my friend! How nice to see you."

"Nice to see you as well," Leonardo mumbled, making sure to glare at Rosa's back as soon as she left. She had pulled Leonardo by the cape all the way across the city. Everyone had been taking advantage of that cape lately...

"So we might as well get started right away. My 10,000 florins?"

"Oh, yes, of course..." Leonardo untied the sack of money from his belt, and promptly handed it over.

Antonio opened a drawer and placed the sack inside. He then turned to Leonardo with a smile. "Come, let us go."

Leonardo tilted his head. "Where are we going?"

"Out."

"... Ah."

**XIXIX**

"Your first lesson is fairly simple."

"That is all very fine and well. I just would like to know why we had to come _here_ for this lesson," said Leonardo with a glance towards the marketplace. Yeah, the marketplace. One of the most populated areas in all of mother fucking Venezia.

Antonio offered a disinterested shrug. "I thought it would be appropriate."

Appropriate? Really? The artist had to resist smashing his head against the nearest wall. "I do not see how the heart of Venezia is an appropriate place to teach me something so... so _intimate_."

"Quit your whining. It isn't very becoming of someone who is trying to be more manly."

"I'm not whining!" Leonardo whined. He then proceeded to pause and frown at his own fail.

Antonio only snorted, grabbing Leonardo by his (fucking) cape (again). "Follow me. We haven't a moment to spare."

Weaving their way through the thick crowds, the two came upon a shop. It didn't appear to be that interesting. It sat silently within the noisy marketplace, cracked walls and chipped paint making it look like just about every other building in the city. However, it had almost an eerie hint to it and the crowd seemed to subconsciously steer away. The sign that hung over the door was written in what looked like another language, but Leonardo couldn't place it. All he knew was the building gave him the chills.

"Where are we?" he asked softly, feeling tiny bubbles of apprehension tingling in his stomach.

"What's wrong?" Antonio answered the question with another question, and quirked his lips. "Are you nervous?"

"Of course I'm not nervous!" Leonardo replied nervously.

... He really needed to do something about that.

The master thief ignored the other man. "I believe it's time for me to use my sexuality!"

There was an awkward pause.

"Oh, no."

"Oh, yes."

"But you already used your sexuality to get out of paying your rent this month! Do you even have any left?"

Antonio gave Leonardo such a shocked look that it actually made the artist a little more edgy than before. "Leonardo! You cannot run out of sexuality! How could you ever even think that? You poor, misinformed man!" The master thief patted Leonardo harshly on the back as some form of condolence, and then went on to knock on the door of the creepy, creepy building.

Less than five seconds later, a young, scrawny woman opened the door. She was not exceptionally beautiful, sporting frazzled black hair and a long, crooked nose, but Leonardo supposed she wasn't that unattractive either.

"You are not Gabriella," Antonio said with a frown.

The girl peered at the strange men from her place at the door for a few moments. "I am Gabriella's sister," she finally said, her voice soft and dull. "She is away right now."

The words seemed to relieve the tense thief, and his frown relaxed into an easy, flirtatious smile. "Well hello there," he said with a wink. "Are you young and impressionable?"

The girl narrowed her eyes. "She warned me about you already."

Leonardo actually laughed.

Antonio grinned and forced a light chuckle, no doubt trying to resist some sort of violent urge. "You are quite funny. What is your name, signorina?"

The young woman looked unsure if she wanted to answer, her mind calculating the danger of the situation. After she deemed the man to be relatively harmless (Thank God Antonio was a good actor and concealed his weapons) she gave him a small, tentative smile. "My name is Carla."

"Such a pleasure to meet you, Carla. I am Antonio, and this is my friend Leonardo," he said, gesturing loosely towards the artist.

"Buongiorno," he said flatly. Why had Antonio brought him here? Leonardo didn't really feel like he was learning anything...

Carla seemed to finally take notice of the man. "Leonardo da Vinci? The painter?"

Leonardo nodded, and gave her a tight smile. "Si, that is right."

"I did not know my sister knew such interesting people... Ah, forgive me for being so rude earlier. It's just that we have been dealing with a few problematic people as of late." She glanced away from Leonardo and was once again enamored by the master thief.

"Oh?" Antonio adopted a look of pure concern. It took all of Leonardo's concentration not to gag. "What is the matter?"

Carla flushed and shook her head. "It is not important... Certainly you came here for a reason, signore? What is it you need?"

Antonio paused for a split second before he grinned again. "I have a package waiting for me here. It should be under the name _Magianis_."

"I will go look for it. I would invite you inside, but I'm afraid I'm not allowed to let anyone into the shop at the moment..."

"It is all right, signorina. We will wait out here."

Carla smiled brightly at Antonio, still blissfully unaware of Leonardo standing right next to him, and then disappeared back inside.

"I do not understand what the importance of this is... Unless you invited me along to do errands with you," the artist said quietly, just in case Carla could overhear.

Antonio made a clicking noise with his tongue. "Leonardo, have you been paying any attention at all? If I had said one wrong thing a few moments ago, Carla would have slammed the door in our faces. But I made her feel _at ease _and _safe_."

"I thought you were teaching me how to be dominant and masculine. Not how to be a pillar of security for a few women."

"What is the definition of dominance?"

"I think... It is the state that exists when a person or group has power over others, right?"

"Right. And how do you get power?"

"Err... Force?"

"Well, yes. But we're saving that for another lesson. How _else_ do you get power?"

Leonardo paused to think about that. Finally, something clicked in his mind. "You can get power by making someone feel safe...?"

Antonio's nod made the artist almost jump for joy. Thank the Lord! There was actually some thought behind these lessons!

"You are going to flirt with Carla."

Hey, kids! Remember when Leonardo wanted to jump for joy? Yeah, that feeling was long fucking gone.

"But – But I don't _like_ her like that!" he whispered harshly. "And what happened to making her feel 'secure'? I doubt having two men flirting shamelessly with her will make her feel comfortable!"

"Ah, and that's where lesson number two comes in – shameless flirting. She quite obviously prefers me over you. However, I think that if you use that overworked brain of yours, you can figure out how to change that."

"But -"

"No buts, Leonardo. By the end of this lesson, I expect you to have her swooning over your every word."

"But -"

"What part of 'no buts' did you not understand?"

"The 'no' part, I suppose."

Just then, Carla came flouncing out of the shop, Antonio's package (heh) in her hand. It looked like she had just taken a boatload of happy pills and shoved a puppy up her ass.

"Here is your package, signore," she said with a little too much enthusiasm, handing it to the thief.

"Grazie, signorina."

**XIXIX**

The whole thing had ended rather well, considering the fact that it was his first lesson.

At least, that's what Antonio had told Leonardo.

Leonardo, on the other hand, was unsure whether he should move out of Venezia _today_ or _tomorrow_.

No, he hadn't been able to convert Carla from an Antonio fan to a Leonardo fan. But he _had_ managed to get her to say, _"Oh, Leonardo, you say the sweetest things! You're so cute with your big red hat and your darling cape! And you blush so easily! I just want to pinch your adorable little cheeks!"_

Now, if you're a guy, you'll realize why Leonardo was so depressed. The only thing that could have made it worse was if she had said '_And if you were an animal, you'd be the cutest pink-nosed bunny I ever did see!_' Unfortunately for Leonardo, she actually _did_ say that.

But if you're a girl, and can't figure out why Leonardo was so upset... Well... Imagine a boy walking up to you and saying, _'Hey! You're pretty manly looking! I like your mustache and your hairy legs! Wanna arm wrestle sometime?'_ Yep, that was the fucking equivalent.

So by the time they left Carla at the shop, Leonardo was a walking puddle of sadness. Seriously. Not even those cliché rain clouds that hover over people's heads wanted to be near him.

**XIXIX**

When Antonio propositioned a third lesson after that total fucking failure, the artist could only stare.

"You cannot be serious."

He tried his best to keep himself from curling up into the fetal position and breaking out into violent sobbing. He _knew_ that trusting Antonio was a terrible idea, and this just made everything worse.

Maybe he wouldn't be so self-conscious of his actions if they had been doing this anywhere else. But no, Antonio had insisted that they did this near the docks. Where anyone who had eyes could see them hugging each other like queers. The artist had no problem with being gay. It was just that when you lived in the late fucking 1400s and being gay was _illegal_... Well, that's pretty much where the problems came in. _Stupid_ Antonio and his _stupid_ flippy-hair and his _stupid_ lessons.

"I am completely serious, mio amico," said the thief with the smile of a demon. "Let's hurry up and get it over with."

"Really? You expect me to do this with a straight face?"

"Yes."

"But this doesn't even make any sense! What does hugging have to do with masculinity?"

"It isn't hugging. It is _holding_. I can't believe you are going to question every single one of my lessons, just because the '_shameless flirting_' one didn't work. Wait, don't tell me..." Antonio raised his brows and gave the other man a rather incredulous look. "You mean you haven't heard about the theory about holding someone?"

The artist narrowed his eyes, but continued to listen with eager ears. Because when there were theories involved, he couldn't help but become completely engrossed in the subject.

"There is a theory that, if you hold someone a certain way, you can make them feel safe; our word of the day. And along with that, you can also make them feel a lot smaller. Which automatically makes you more masculine! I just happen to be a master at these types of techniques. Aren't you lucky?"

"... That sounds like a very flimsy theory."

"Perhaps it is. Perhaps it isn't. You will find out eventually. Now come here and hold me."

"This is not..."

"Hold me, Leonardo. Scoop me up in those big, manly arms of yours and tell me how I'd be the cutest pink-nosed bunny you ever did see."

"I... That's... Be quiet," Leonardo stuttered, feeling his face grow warm with embarrassment and anger. Fuck, Antonio would probably tease him about that for the rest of his life.

He took a few steps forward and embraced the extremely irritating man before him. There was a calm silence, where Leonardo could only hear the rippling of the water around him and the fading shouts of sailors. He tried not to concentrate on Antonio's breathing because, quite frankly, he didn't want to be reminded that the thief was even alive.

But, unluckily for him, Antonio began to speak again.

"You really do have quite a darling cape."

"Damn it Antonio!" huffed Leonardo as he roughly pushed away from the other man. He hardened his gaze when he saw that Antonio was laughing. Yeah, that was probably one of the most humiliating experiences of his life. Well, second most humiliating. The whole Carla deal was pretty difficult to compete with.

"Mi dispiace," the master thief said with a grin. He didn't sound too apologetic. "I just couldn't keep it to myself. Here, hold me again. I will show you the correct way to do it."

"I don't want to do this anymore. This stupid theory of yours isn't going to work..." Leonardo hissed, looking both ways to make sure no one was watching.

"Fine. I'll prove it to you, then." Antonio grabbed the artist by the waist and pulled him into an embrace.

'Awkward' was a fucking understatement. However, after a few seconds went by, Leonardo realized that Antonio must have been on to something. He felt a little calmer, and a hell of a lot smaller than the other man. What kind of black magic was this?

"It is all about the placement of your hands," said a rather smug Antonio.

God willing, he'd never hear those words come from the thief's mouth again.

Leonardo was about to respond, when he suddenly felt like he was being watched. Nervously, he turned away from Antonio to look around the docks. He didn't see anyone. He looked over towards the buildings, his eyes scanning the rooftops. Maybe an archer...? No, there wasn't anyone there either. There was a slight chance that he was just being paranoid, but...

"Leonardo? Are you all right? You look like you have seen a ghost," Antonio questioned, sounding almost a little too worried for Leonardo's taste.

"I am fine," he replied with a half-hearted smile, and then changed the subject. "It is just that I am in shock! Your 'holding' theory really is true! How intriguing... I apologize for doubting you."

Antonio seemed a little put off by the sudden change in atmosphere, but he went along with it. He gave Leonardo a big, cheesy grin. "See? I told you it worked! Now, put your hands here... No, no. _Here_..."

**XIXIX**

It was late in the afternoon when Leonardo finally got back from the docks. He hadn't really gotten the technique completely right, but Antonio assured him that he'd keep teaching him until he got it right. Which equally weirded him out as much as it made him happy to have a 'friend' to teach him those sorts of things. He was almost back at his workshop, when –

Huh? Was that an eagle...?

Unfortunately, he had little time to let his thoughts dwell on the bird.

"Assassino! Catch him!"

The cries of the guards seemed to come from behind the artist. His mind had barely any time to register what was going on before he felt someone grab him by the wrist and pull him along.

"E-Ezio!?" he yelped.

And then that incredibly husky voice was surrounding him like a big, hot, steamy Italian blanket of goosh. Oh God, how he _loved_ Italian blankets of goosh...

"I hope you know how to move quickly, Leonardo."


	7. Sette

AN: Long Author's Note is long. God damn it, why do I only write when I'm too sleep-deprived to think straight? Sorry. I'm feeling sort of edgy. I got a hit for this story from a place called 'Satellite', and another one from a place called 'UFO'. I looked both of 'em up (because I'm such a paranoid geek), but I couldn't find them **anywhere**. Are they even countries? I don't think it's possible for people to go on the internet out in space... Seriously, this shit is bothering me. Am I going to get ass raped by aliens?  
P.S. The annual water festival is nowadays called 'Regata Storica', which means historical regatta. I don't think they called it that in the 1400s because that's when the races became sort of official. Also, the Queen of Cyprus visited Venice in 1489. I haven't decided (and probably never will decide) what year this story takes place in, so feel free to use your imagination. If you have one, that is. :/

WARNING TIEM: You are now sexually confused, just like everyone else. Good luck, loser.

* * *

Chapter Sette:

I FEEL SO GAY IN A MELONCHOLY WAY

-

Back in the day, being an artist wasn't really too glamorous. Haven't you ever thought about all of that manual labor? Sure, they had assistants and apprentices, but they weren't around on a daily basis. An artist had to be at the top of his _game_, man. He had to be able to carry all of his shit around when he didn't have helpers, able to break his own tile to make mosaics, able to climb up things in order to get a perfect view of a landscape/bird/naked neighbor, able to chip away at stone and marble with nothing but a chisel and pure arm strength...

Leonardo was that type of artist. If you include the fact that he was also an engineer and, every once in a while, actually put together some of the stuff he invented... Well then you'd understand why he had some muscle underneath those loose clothes of his.

But by no means could he ever compare to Ezio Auditore when it came to speed.

And that's why, as they ran together through the crowded streets of Venice, Leonardo was practically stumbling over his own feet in order to keep up.

"The assassin has an accomplice!" he heard a guard screech.

"Fucking guards," Ezio growled over his shoulder, his hand tightening around Leonardo's. The feeling gave the artist butterflies in his stomach. "We will try to lose them at the Grand Canal."

The idea seemed fine to Leonardo. The Grand Canal was the perfect place to go if you wanted to get away from someone. Well actually, you could only get away if you know how to work a gondola. Which Ezio did. _Requiescat in pace_, bitches.

But as they made a sharp left turn around a building, Leonardo remembered something kind of important.

"Ezio, wait, the Queen of Cyprus is visiting today!"

They made another left turn.

"And?"

A right turn.

"And Venezia is welcoming her by throwing a huge celebration! There will be a grand parade down the canal, and then there will be a gondola race!"

Leonardo could see the look of confusion cross Ezio's face, but it was gone in moments. Ezio furrowed his brows in concentration. "Perhaps that will make our escape easier. There is bound to be a lot of people there..." Then the two men made yet another turn, and Leonardo was beginning to get dizzy. The city was just so full of twists and turns – he had never really noticed them until now. He also didn't notice the way Ezio tightened his grip on his wrist, looking back at the artist with a smile.

"_They're getting away! Catch them!_"

**XIXIX**

On that day, the first Sunday of September, Venetians and visitors alike were crowded along the banks of the Grand Canal. For the occasion, the canal was festooned with brilliantly colored banners, velvet drapes, and damask hangings. There were some pretty hot chicks there, too.

Ezio and Leonardo finally got to the canal just as soon as the parade ended. They stood side by side on a mini-dock, simply catching their breath. Leonardo was having quite a difficult time doing that though, since there were way too many intriguing things to look at.

"Oh, Ezio!" the artist swooned, his exhaustion forgotten. "It's so beautiful! Look at all of the colors! And the bissone are all so _detailed_! The carvings are lovely!"

"That is wonderful, Leonardo. You can squeal over a stupid festival, and I can actually think of a plan to get away from those guards."

Leonardo, however, was not deterred by Ezio's lack of enthusiasm. If anything, it made him even happier to know that he was sharing the moment with his best friend. Even if said best friend wasn't really paying attention to anything going on around him.

"Mio dio! I have never seen anything so wonderful in my life! Oh, wow, look at _that_!"

And to his great surprise, Ezio actually did look. Leading a flotilla of gondolas down the Grand Canal came an elaborate ceremonial bissona the color of rich vermillion, loaded with gilded carvings, and rowed by eighteen crewmen. In the front of the giant boat stood about ten men dressed in red and gold robes, playing a fanfare on their trumpets.

But at the back of the boat was the most important feature – Catharine Coronaro, the Queen of Cyprus herself. She sat in an extravagant scarlet dress, matching the boat and the trumpeters. Her lips were curved up into a small, polite smile and she waved to the cheering/screaming/sobbing/sexed up Venetians.

Ezio's eyes lit up as soon as he saw the 40 something-year-old queen (Sounded kind of dirty, didn't it?). "That's it! We can get across if we jump from gondola to gondola!"

"I hope, for the sake of my life, that you are just fucking with me."

"_There they are_!" Yeah, you guessed it. The guards were back.

"We can fuck later, Leonardo. Right now we need to get across the canal," Ezio said with a cheeky smile. The artist hated the way Ezio smiled like that. He also hated the way that Ezio laughed at him when he blushed and stammered.

But he didn't hate him when Ezio took his hand again. "Jump when I tell you to jump!"

Leonardo had known Ezio for a long time. Leonardo liked Ezio very much. Very, _very_ much.

Did Leonardo like Ezio a bit too much?

Well…

**XIXIX**

The assassin and the artist had made it back to Leonardo's workshop with relative ease. And by relative ease, I mean it _wasn't _relatively easy_ in the fucking slightest_. Leonardo had almost fallen into the canal nine times, and had also managed to drop his hat in the murky waters. He wanted to cry, but then remembered that he was trying to learn how to be more masculine. Crying would probably just reverse the small amount of knowledge he had on the subject.

Ezio, on the other hand, was (at first) quite smitten with himself. Leonardo couldn't really blame him. The younger man had gotten them both across the Grand Canal with great speed, and also got slapped in the face by the Queen of Cyprus. That sounds pretty terrible, but when you get _slapped_ by the _Queen _of_ Cyprus_... Fuck, it's like getting slapped by a celebrity. You feel bad at first, but then you're like, 'Holy shit, did she just slap me?'

The story goes like this:

Ezio was jumping from gondola to gondola with Leonardo, right? Well, eventually they landed on the big bissone. Yeah, _the _big bissone. You know, the one with Queenie on it. Anyways, Queenie was absolutely shocked. She didn't know what to do. There weren't any guards on the boat with her (Because really, who would ever plan ahead for something like _that_?) and all of the crewmen/trumpeters were cowering on the other side of the boat, sobbing to themselves.

Ezio, being the most flirtatious man in all of Italia, naturally saunters over, bows, and winks at her. She responds by taking a step forward and smacking him clean across the face. Leonardo would have burst out laughing, if he wasn't too busy mourning the loss of his beloved hat.

The assassin was shocked at first, but then he gave Queenie one of his charming smiles, grabbed Leonardo by the cape (Again with that cape?), and jumped off the boat, on to another smaller one.

Now the two friends sat in the workshop, with Ezio still rubbing his sore cheek and Leonardo still trying not to cry over his hat. His fucking _hat_. His fucking _hat_ that was now _lost. _His fucking _hat_ that was now _lost _in the _Grand Canal_ forever and ever and _ever_. Damn it.

"You'll be able to live without your hat for a few days," Ezio said, sounding kind of detached. Oh yeah, that was the other thing. Ever since they had gotten away from the guards, Ezio had been acting strangely. It was like he had just remembered that he was upset about something.

"Is something wrong?" asked Leonardo, sounding a little concerned even to his own ears.

Ezio only offered a childish grin. "What is it? Are you _worried_ about me, Leonardo?"

"Yes, I am."

The assassin actually looked taken aback at how straight-forward the statement was. But then he schooled his face back into a smug expression, and gave an obviously forced laugh. "That's sweet of you, mio amico. But you worry too much. I am perfectly fine. I'm worried about _you_, though. What are you going to do without your hat?"

Leonardo wanted to tell Ezio that, despite the whole sneaky assassin thing, he was really bad at lying and changing the subject. And he also wanted to tell Ezio how gorgeous he was when he was flushed and sweaty, and how he wished he could run his fingers through his coarse, brown hair.

But Leonardo obviously couldn't tell him any of those things without sounding like a total creeper, so he instead chose to smile warmly and pretend that he was worried about his hat, when in fact he was much more worried about the man who sat directly in front of him.

**XIXIX**

Ezio left exactly twenty six minutes and twelve seconds later. Leonardo had been counting. He wished he could say something to make Ezio stay for a few more minutes, but he didn't know what he could do. Ezio had places to go, and people to kill. He knew the assassin could never really stick around for long, even if he wanted to.

Leonardo went to bed that night with a nervous knot in his stomach, and woke up in the morning to find a brand new red hat sitting on his nightstand.

**XIXIX**

The carpet was interesting. It wasn't beautiful, but it was interesting. At least, that's what Leonardo thought. Antonio probably couldn't care less.

"Leonardo, will you please pay attention? You can stare at the ground like a pazzo any other day. Today, you are learning."

"Mi dispiace."

The master thief rolled his eyes, and stood up from his seat behind his desk. "Come on, let's go."

"Where are we going?"

"Out."

"Why do you always say that?"

"Why do you always ask so many questions?"

"... Touché."

"So," Antonio began as they stepped out of his office, "how was the rest of your day yesterday?" Leonardo found the question sort of strange, but he decided that the thief was probably just trying to strike up a conversation.

"It was all right, I guess. I saw Ezio."

"Oh, you did? And how was he?"

Leonardo raised a brow. Despite his words, Antonio didn't sound surprised at all. It was kind of... unsettling. But he told the man everything anyways. Because he (sort of) trusted him. After he finished the story about the Queen of Cyprus slapping Ezio – which made Antonio snicker – he paused for a moment. He wasn't sure if he should talk about the assassin's strange behavior or not.

"You are going to mention Ezio's strange behavior, aren't you?"

Leonardo almost tripped over his own fucking boots.

Antonio continued on like nothing happened. "He stopped by my hideout last night, acting dark and moody, but he wouldn't tell me what was wrong. I just guessed that he was acting the same way around you as well."

Once Leonardo collected himself, he let out a small sigh. "You are correct. He wasn't acting dark and moody, but I could tell that something was... off."

Antonio furrowed his brows. "Maybe Celio raped him."

Leonardo's face actually froze over, and his already pale complexion turned at least five shades lighter. "You... You don't think that... Celio... he wouldn't..."

"Calm down, I was only joking!" Antonio paused for a moment, but then a sly smile spread across his face. "... But what if Celio _did_ rape him?"

Leonardo was really not liking where this conversation was going. "Do not joke like that."

"Who said I was joking? What if he raped him? What would you _do_ about it?"

"I... don't know. Antonio, per favore, this is not-"

"Would you stand there and watch, or would you actually help? What if _I_ were the one to do it?" (Wait, what?) "What if I pulled him by his ponytail and made him call me Daddy?" (Not cool.) "What if I had hot, dirty sex with him on the floor of your workshop?" (Please shut up.) "What if I gave him fellatio on one of your paintings?" (That's not right.) "What if he gave _me_ fellatio on one of your paintings?" (That's even worse.) "What if I penetrated him with a carrot?" (Urge to kill... rising...) "What if I penetrated him with my-"

"Antonio," Leonardo almost growled, turning to stare the thief dead in the eye, "if you did any of those things, I would dig out the corpses of your ancestors, chain you to their bones, and force you to drink your own blood by the gallon from their rotting hands, while I _personally_ scattered the ashes of your missing limbs over your helpless body, as it was whipped, lashed, and beaten into a bloody pulp, sending the pain of the man you have disgraced down your spine and into your barely twitching heart."

Antonio was quiet for a moment; then he burst out laughing. "And that, my dear fellow, concludes lesson four. You are gullible, which is no surprise. But freakishly possessive? I would not have expected _that_ from you."

(_We_ all know how freakishly possessive Leonardo can be. Don't we?)


	8. Otto

Uh. Hey, girls and boys. How's it going? I feel sort of (_SORT OF_) bad for leaving for so long but unfortunately for you, I do actually have a life beyond the interwebz. And I also have an awful case of writer's block/ fag!depression buuut I'm forcing myself to write because of all the awesome reviews you guys wrote for me. Anyways. Sorry about the lack of Ezio in this chapter. He'll be all over the next chapter, I promise. Oh yeeeeah, and by the by. If you're semi-literate then you'll probably get the joke in the chapter title. If you don't get the joke, don't worry, it just means that you're retarded and/or under the age of twelve. How sad for you. ):

SHOUTOUT TIEM: I hate when people do this, but I'm gonna do it anyways because I'm a shameless hypocrite. Thanks to the anonymous EllieRiku23, who unofficially bribed me and made my ego a little bigger. And thanks to another anonymous reviewer, a.k.a. Reviewer, who gave me an idea that I may or may not use.  
**EDIT:** And a HUGE thanks to **Amala** who pointed out something that made me slap my own forehead in embarrassment. Seriously, I totally forgot about that whole pink (or roseus) thing with masculinity. That's a prime example of why you kids should pay attention in school. Oh well, please try to just turn your head the other way if you see the mistake in my line of thinking... I don't know how to fix it without changing too much dialogue. Wah.

* * *

Chapter Otto

ANNE FRANK'S FATHER

x

It wasn't really a firm friendship. That's what Leonardo had come to realize and accept with Antonio. Sure, friendship was implied. It was hinted at. It was suggested. But in all honesty, both men were very selfish. They were using each other. The artist wanted the assassin and the thief wanted the gold. And although he understood the necessity behind their business-like friendship, Leonardo hated it. Though, despite the selfishness and the awful first impressions, they had become closer by the end of the first week of 'lessons'. There was still a bit of awkwardness, and Leonardo still wanted to strangle the thief every now and then, but for the most part the two men got on pretty well.

They were friends. And if you've ever had a friend (cough) then you'll know that as time passes, you eventually learn new things about the other person. One 'new thing' that Leonardo learned was that Antonio was much more eccentric than he let on. Which brings us to this.

"Antonio?"

"Yes, Leonardo?"

"You... You are wearing pink."

"Yes, Leonardo."

The artist was stunned into silence. He had been working on his latest commission when Antonio pranced in, tripping over paperwork and singing something that sounded suspiciously similar to 'O Sole Mio'. Yes, Mr. Robin Hood of Italia hadn't really changed much over the past couple of days. Except for the fact that he was covered head to toe in the most ghastly shades of pink ever imaginable. Leonardo wasn't sure if he should pinch himself to see if he was dreaming, or if he should pinch Antonio to see if the thief was still relatively sane.

Naturally, he decided on pinching Antonio.

The twenty minutes of Antonio's ragefest flew by with amazing speed. And by 'amazing speed' I mean that time dragged on like an underage pothead trying to make his way through a crowd of rapists and pedophiles while simultaneously balancing a goose on his ass.

When the master thief decided that he was done scolding Leonardo for _pinching him_, he picked up a paintbrush and began to waltz with it around the workshop. Apparently A.D.D. was just as common back in the late 1400s as it is today.

Leonardo rolled his eyes. "Per favore, I am extremely busy today. If you are bothering me just because you are bored – "

"Leorina, amico mio, you wound my heart so! You speak as if we are not friends. Do friends not visit each other just for the sake of saying 'ciao' or 'buongiorno'?"

"Yes, well... Real friends do that sort of thing. But we are hardly real friends, Antonia," replied Leonardo with a tiny smile as he turned and continued to work on his commission. Of course he was only joking, but he had grown fond of the melodrama that always followed his anti-friendship statements.

This time was no different. "Oh! The pain! It is as if you have stabbed me with an ax and ripped it from my chest only but an hour later!"

"You would not even live for an hour if I stabbed you in the chest with an ax."

Antonio grinned but did not respond. For the next few minutes they sat, simply enjoying the other's company. The pleasant silence was brutally beaten to a bloody pulp, however, when Rosa came crashing through the door.

"Have... you two... seen... Ezio...?" she managed to say between heavy breaths. Her pupils were dilated to an extreme and, if Leonardo didn't know any better, he'd say that she had just been running from the guards. Or something.

The master thief was, of course, the first to speak. "The last time I spoke with him was when I was with you, silly woman."

Rosa furrowed her brows and pinched the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger. "Damn it!" Suddenly, her attention was thrown upon Leonardo. "Leonardo, please tell me that you have seen that stupid man. Please!"

Leonardo could only offer her an apologetic smile. "Mi dispiace, Rosa. I have not seen him since the parade. Has something happened?"

"Has something happened? Has something _happened_!? That fucker stole my painting!"

Leonardo blinked a few times. "Your what?"

"My painting! It's my favorite one, too. It is a portrait of a lion from Africa. The colors are just so beautiful and vibrant, and even though it's not as realistic as the art in Venezia, it has a certain charm to it. Actually, come to think of it... It is probably something you would like, Leonardo. But you will never get to see it because Ezio Auditore," (moar like Audiwhore-ay, amirite?) "decided to steal it from me!"

Wait... So does that mean that Antonio hadn't been lying a few weeks back when he mentioned ruining Rosa's 'portrait of a lion'? No wonder Ezio didn't call him out on his bullshit. He had been telling the truth! The artist felt a little embarrassed. He had never been proven so terribly fucking _wrong_ in his entire life.

"I'm sorry that he stole your painting," said Leonardo with about as much sincerity as he could muster.

"Yes, dreadfully sorry," added Antonio with considerably less sincerity than Leonardo. Actually, it looked like the thief was about to burst into hysterical laughter at any given moment and Rosa, ever the observant one, picked up on this right away.

"What is so funny, Antonio?" she asked, giving the man the 'I-swear-to-God-if-you-had-anything-to-do-with-this-I-will-beat-the-living-shit-out-of-you' kind of look. Satan himself wouldn't even be able to compare to the ferocity that was emanating from Rosa's soul.

Leonardo took this opportunity to sneak out of his own workshop. Antonio followed shortly after.

"How did you sneak out while Rosa was still talking to you?" asked Leonardo.

"Oh, that was easy," replied Antonio with a grin. "I used a smoke bomb."

**XIXIX**

It was almost an hour later, and the two men were walking together through the streets of Venice. Antonio was flashing him one of his creepy 'lesson-time' smiles, and the artist was beginning to feel... uneasy.

Leonardo liked Ezio. He really did. But times like these made him wonder why he was doing all of this for the assassin. He wondered why he took stupid lessons from a kleptomaniac. He wondered why he hated Celio, a man he had never met, with such raw intensity. And most of all, he wondered why eagles made him giggle like a little fucking girl.

He also wondered why he was saying all of this out loud, but that was unimportant.

"You're obsessed with him, aren't you?" asked Antonio with a snort.

Leonardo flushed. "Of – Of course not! Why would you think that?"

"You just giggled at an eagle."

"No I didn't," Leonardo retorted. Antonio only laughed.

"So," began the thief with another smile, "I do believe I gave you enough of a break from lessons. When was the last one? Almost a week ago, right?"

"... Right." To be perfectly honest, Leonardo wouldn't really mind if Antonio suddenly lost interest in teaching him how to be masculine. But, seeing how his failures were actually some sick form of entertainment for the thief, Leonardo doubted that would happen any time soon.

"Well then I guess it is time for lesson number... uh... Which lesson were we on?"

"Err... wasn't it lesson five?"

"I thought it was lesson four..."

There was a long silence. After a few minutes, the thief decided that it didn't really matter because no one (except for people with obsessive-compulsive disorder) gave two shits about lesson numbers anyways.

"Onwards, Leonardo!" cried Antonio, waving his pink side-cape around.

Leonardo tilted his head. "Onwards to where?"

"Why, to the Basilica di Santa Maria Gloriosa dei Frari, of course!"

The artist sighed loudly. Of course Antonio would want to go there. What had he ever done to deserve this? Well, okay, there was that one time, but-

"Surely you do not mean the _cathedral_, Antonio."

"Surely I do."

Only Antonio would decide to teach intimate things like masculinity in a cathedral. _Only _fucking_ Antonio_. Leonardo could only pray that the thief didn't make him hit on a nun or, even worse, the priest himself. He wondered how he'd explain _that _to the guards. _'So. Leonardo. You... err... You have a pastor fetish?'_

Leonardo visibly shuddered. Antonio noticed.

"Oh, Leonardo, you are so gullible. I am just joking. There are no lessons today, I just wanted to go visit the church with you."

That was meant to settle the artist's nerves. It didn't work.

**XIXIX**

Finding the Frari was actually a lot harder than either man had expected because, surprise surprise, Venice was actually a pretty big place. They had tried asking for directions (which is pretty odd since we all know how macho men feel about directions) from at least three different people, but those three people were busy molesting their livestock, so that didn't really work out.

Then Antonio saw a particularly fat man, and decided that he'd try his luck again. "Excuse me, grasotto!" he called out. Leonardo's eyes widened.

"Do not call him that, Antonio! Where are your manners? He will not give us directions if you are rude," he hissed. He was grateful that the large man hadn't seemed to have heard the insult.

"Ah, yes, thank you for reminding me. Excuse me, fat man!"

This time, the guy did hear him.

Leonardo barely resisted smacking Antonio on the back of the head.

"Don't call me that!" the fat man whined. "Everyone always calls me 'fat man'. You know, the family doctor said that only ever being referred to as 'fat man' is periodically damaging my self esteem, which forces me into a mental and emotional downward spiral, and causes me to comfort eat. So it's your fault I'm fat! It's _your fault_!"

Antonio looked uncomfortable and Leonardo felt sort of bad for the fat ma- uh, I mean the normal man who was not fat in any way, shape, or form.

"Well, is there something else you'd like me to call you?"

"Yes. My name is Rocco. But do not confuse me with my brother Brocco. When we were younger, my brother and I used to roll dice and if it landed on 'seven', he'd beat me. But the dice was loaded! Now I'm painfully indecisive and suffer from borderline personality disorder! I'm also emotional and I have chronic gas. No woman wants me; whenever my parents try to arrange a marriage, my soon-to-be wife always kills herself out of pure misery! This has happened twelve times! Twelve times!" And then Rocco burst into tears.

"That is wonderful. Do you know where the Basilica di Santa Maria Gloriosa dei Frari is?" Smooth, Antonio. Real smooth.

"Yes, it is nearby," said Rocco with a happy smile, tears and sorrow completely forgotten. "Make a left at the tailor shop, go through the alley filled with rats and dying whores, make another left, and then a right, and then three more lefts, climb up the ladder on the wall behind you, climb down the ladder on the other side, go through the alley on your right, cross the bridge that is directly in front of you, make a left, then a right, and then another left, then two more rights, then walk exactly eleven paces backwards and... Voila! You will be at the entrance to the cathedral. I hope I helped."

Leonardo glanced at Antonio. "Do you think you will be able to remember all of that?"

"Alley with dying whores... Climb up ladder... Another left... two more rights... eleven paces backwards..."

The artist sighed. This was going to be a long day.

**XIXIX**

It was actually pretty easy to find the cathedral, despite the long, difficult as fuck directions that Rocco had given. (To be completely truthful, walking backwards was probably the only difficult part because Leonardo kept tripping over his own cape.)

"I have always wanted to come here," Leonardo said with a wistful smile as they entered the courtyard-like area. When his eyes landed on the huge bell tower, he chuckled to himself. "I wonder if Ezio has ever climbed _that_?"

"He did," Antonio replied darkly. "We raced each other to the bell."

Leonardo laughed, oblivious to the thief's sudden mood swing. "Ah, really? That sounds like something you two would do. Who won?"

"I did."

"Ezio must have been upset," Leonardo said with a snicker.

"Si. When he reached the top of the tower, he pushed me off."

Leonardo stared at the other man for a few seconds. Then he grinned. Remember that shit-eating grin that Antonio had once used on Ezio before he got decked in the face? Yeah, that's the one. Now picture it on Leonardo. Are you picturing it? Good. Are you creeped out? Even better.

Antonio glared at him, but the whole 'intimidation' thing didn't really work because he was wearing pink. "It is not funny. I fell at least a hundred feet! I could have _died_!" Unfortunately for him, Leonardo had already gotten kinda used to him 'almost dying', so this bit of information didn't really phase the artist.

"Why didn't you die?" he asked with a look of curiosity as they walked inside the building.

"Well," Antonio said with a huff, "I was lucky enough to fall into a haystack. I use the term 'lucky' very loosely, by the way. Do you know that haystacks aren't as soft as everyone claims them to be?" Leonardo was just about to respond when an elderly nun came up to greet them.

"Hello," she said with a soft smile. "I do not think I have ever seen you two around here before. Welcome to our church."

Ah, yes. Nuns. Leonardo knew that it was necessary to treat nuns with about as much respect as you would bestow upon Jesus H. Christ himself, **or else**. He had learned this the hard way as a young boy when his father had hired a nun as a babysitter. That sister really knew how to smack a bitch.

"Thank you very much, signora. The church is beautiful," replied the artist who returned the nun's smile.

"Ah, please, call me Sister Emilia," she said.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Sister Emilia," Antonio cut in.

The nun nodded. "The feeling is mutual," she said with a chuckle. Then she paused and gave Antonio a strange look. "Oh... You are wearing pink. Are you the... volunteer?"

Antonio grinned. "Yes, that is me. I hope I have not caused any problems by arriving so late."

"Oh no... No, you haven't." Sister Emilia's wrinkled cheeks turned a deep, splotchy rose color, and Leonardo was almost one hundred percent sure he didn't even want to fucking _know_. But that didn't stop him from asking anyway as soon as the sister left.

"What was all of that about?"

"Oh, it was nothing."

"Tell me."

"Well... Nuns get lonely sometimes. And they like the color pink."

Leonardo almost fainted.

**XIXIX**

The first part of Mass was amazing. Leonardo spent his time fanboying over anything remotely artistic, which was pretty much everything – because the whole damn Renaissance time period was well known for going overboard with interior decorating – and Antonio spent his time, ahem, 'volunteering' in another room. (Leonardo learned a few weeks later that the thief wasn't even volunteering since the nuns actually paid him)

Antonio joined the artist for the second part of the service and Leonardo's good mood was immediately ruined. "You are disgusting," was the only thing he could say to him. Come on, you'd say the same thing.

"I know," said Antonio with his trademarked creepy smile. Leonardo realized with great frustration that the thief probably took that as a compliment.

"Do you have any _morals_!? You are seducing _nuns_, women who have sworn to remain celibate for a _reason_!" he hissed, trying to keep his voice low as to not disrupt the service.

"I do not sleep with them," Antonio mumbled, the smile still plastered to his face. "I just strip."

"Dio mio, Antonio," said a stern voice from right next to them. "I have not seen you for months and this is the first thing I hear from you? You are stripping for nuns?"

Leonardo wanted to believe that it was Ezio, but he knew better.

"Ah, the old man reappears!" Antonio said rather loudly. A nun tried to shush him. He winked at her.

The old man lost interest in Antonio rather quickly. "You are Ezio's friend, no? The artist?" asked the old man, turning to face Leonardo.

"I am an artist, yes." He didn't confirm being Ezio's friend, because he knew that association with an assassin could be relatively dangerous (dur). And besides, who was this guy? How did he know Ezio? He tried to catch a glimpse of the strange man's face, but it was obscured by his hood.

"Do not be so paranoid, Leonardo. He is not a villain. Perhaps he is a little odd, but not a villain," said Antonio.

Leonardo glared at the thief. "I do not think you have the rights to determine who is a villain and who is not," he said coldly.

"You should learn how to be more compassionate towards me."

"You should learn how to be less compassionate towards nuns."

The old man let out a bark of laughter. "I like Ezio's friend. When you described him to me in your letters, you made him sound like a dickless pansy."

Wait, what?

"He _is_ a pansy when I'm not around!" whined Antonio.

"I am not!"

The thief gave him a look. "Leonardo, you are more effeminate than my own mother was."

"That is because your mother was a man," the stranger cut in. Leonardo would have laughed at that under different circumstances, but he was too busy being pissed off at Antonio.

"At least I am not wearing pink," said Leonardo.

"Well..." Antonio was glowering. "Well at least I am not the one who needs to be taught how to be a man!"

"Well, at least I have enough self-respect to not sell myself out to nuns!"

"Hah! Well, at least I actully _look_ Italian!"

Oh, hell no. Did he just go there? It was then that the artist decided that whatever messed up relationship he had previously thought he shared with Antonio was now completely nonexistent. Fuck Antonio and his morals. The thief could sit on it and rotate for all Leonardo cared. And he didn't care. Not one bit.

"I do not need you," Leonardo spat as he stood up from the pew. He was vaguely aware that everyone in the church was staring at them, but it didn't really matter now. "I do not need you or your stupid _lessons_."

Antonio stood up as well, sudden apologies written into his face. The artist couldn't tell if the emotion was real or fake. "Wait, amico mio, I am sorry, I didn't mean –"

A high pitched scream cut off anything Antonio had to say. Both men turned away from each other to look around. The old man was gone. Sister Emilia was screaming. Three of the tapestries hanging from the ceiling had been set on fire, and the flames were quickly sliding down the walls towards the pews. There was a few seconds of pure silence, a few seconds before the realization set in.

"Ah. Shit," said Antonio.

**XIXIX**

Only one person was injured in the fire. If you think about it as a statistic, one is a pretty good number. It would have been better if no one was hurt, but life doesn't usually work that way.

The child's mother had been in such a hurry to get out of the burning building that she hadn't noticed he was missing until she was outside. By then, the flames had consumed most of the cathedral. Antonio ran inside to be a 'hero'.

Leonardo didn't try to stop him.

When Antonio came stumbling back out of the building with the coughing boy in his arms, Leonardo felt relieved.

When Antonio invited him over to his hideout afterwards, Leonardo couldn't refuse.

"I am... sorry. About today. About calling you a pansy. And about saying that you don't look Italian," Antonio said from his desk, nursing a glass of wine in his hand. For once, Leonardo actually believed him.

"It is fine," he said with a small smile. "But are you okay?"

"Of course. I've seen fire before, idiotta."

The artist rolled his eyes. Just when he thought that maybe Antonio could be a decent person... "That is not what I meant. You were exposed to fire for an extended period of time."

"I will be coughing for the next few days, no doubt." Antonio took a sip of his wine, forcing back a wheeze with the liquid. "But honestly, I'm fine. I am just confused as to how the tapestries caught fire. It must have been on purpose. There is no way that could have happened by mere coincidence." Huh. Leonardo hadn't really put any thought into that. He had been too caught up in his own thoughts.

"You are right. There was nothing on the balcony that could have made them light up like that."

The two men sat in silence for a few moments, the only noise being the occasional cough from Antonio. "I don't like being mushy," the thief finally, setting his now empty glass down on his desk. "So if you say one thing about tonight, I shall burn your workshop down."

Leonardo furrowed his brows. What was Antonio talking about? His unspoken question was answered when the thief stood up and walked over to where he was standing. He grabbed the other by the arm, and pulled him into an embrace. It wasn't like the hug on the dock. It wasn't cold, it wasn't distant. Leonardo hugged him back. Antonio was warm.

"You are a good friend, Leonardo."

Pause.

"You are a difficult friend, Antonio."

The thief chuckled and held him tighter. "Grazie."

Maybe if Leonardo had been paying closer attention, he might've heard the creaking of the floorboards, the scuffle of boot-clad feet behind the now ajar door. He might've heard the sharp intake of breath, he might've smelled the cologne that was just too sweet and expensive to be Antonio. However, he had never been good at paying close attention to things. His eyes were closed, his senses were gone.

But Antonio always paid close attention.

Ezio had been there.

The assassin had been planning on knocking, but the door had creaked open just as soon as he placed his knuckles against it. He had been staring at the two embracing men for more than just a few seconds. He had seen the emotion. He had left quickly.

Ezio had _been there_.

Antonio knew this. He didn't try to explain the situation as to avoid a misunderstanding. He didn't look away when Ezio stared him dead in the eye. He didn't run after the younger man when he left. He didn't tell Leonardo.

He only tightened his arms around the artist and smirked.


	9. Nove

HEY GUYS IT'S BEEN A WHILE. (shit) Well I haven't been updating lately 'cause a little hobgoblin named Life came knocking on my door. He wanted to chill out and smoke crack rocks with me at my house. And we had hot kinky sex on my dining room table for 3 months straight. Yeah.  
Oh God, I got some amazing reviews that actually made me _laugh_. Seriously, I was choking on my own saliva. I'm totally looking at you, anonymous Liz. I'm giving you bedroom eyes through the computer. I hope you can feel my lust.  
I didn't proofread this. So feel free to ignore any errors, yeah?

PLUG WARNING: You should look at my formspring and ask me awkward questions anonymously. Click on my profile thing for the link. This isn't shameless plugging because Atlas has no shame. Censor-fuck you in the anus with an unhappy slice of pineapple upside-down cake desu desu? (**I'm totally expecting some dA tartlet to draw a picture of someone getting censor-fucked in the anus with an unhappy slice of pineapple upside-down cake with the captions "desu desu?" plastered somewhere**.)

* * *

Chapter Nove

HOW TO ACCIDENTALLY BURN DOWN A CHURCH

x

Just a note for you pyromaniac enthusiasts out there: you can't 'accidentally' burn down a church. Well, okay, maybe _you_ can, but those of us that actually use more than just one eighth of our brain know how to turn the damn stove off.

Accidentally burning down a church requires a great lack of wit. Antonio didn't have a great lack of wit. He had a little too much wit, to be honest. So he didn't burn the church down on accident. Which brings us to the rather sad conclusion that he burned it down on purpose.

"Fuck," the thief hissed as he tapped his fingers against his desk. He went quiet for a moment. "Fucking fuck," he repeated.

There was a lot to be worried about. First, he burned a church down. He was almost positive that he would be discovered and if Leonardo found out then he could kiss his meal ticket goodbye. Secondly, Ezio was most likely going to come to his hideout in the middle of the night and beat the ever-loving shit out of him. (Ever-loving?) Thirdly... Well, there was no third thing. But his circumstances were so dire that he really didn't need a third. Antonio frowned to himself and licked his lips in a non-sexual way.

It wasn't like he wanted all of this to happen. He wasn't even sure _why_ he was going this far for Leonardo. It's not like the artist had ever done anything for _him_. He was pulled away from his worrisome thoughts when there came a loud knock at the door.

"I'm coming!" he called as he put his clothes back on.

What?

Once he was sure that he was decent, he walked up to the door. However, being the smart man that he was, he knew not to open it right away. Because you never know. It could be a serial rapist with daddy issues. "Who is there?" he asked.

"You know damn well who it is, pezzo di merda," Ezio hissed.

Well so much for that whole 'come-in-the-middle-of-the-night-and-beat-the-ever-loving-shit-out-of-your-freshly-dead-corpse' thing. Antonio had forgotten that Ezio knew how to murder in broad daylight. Gulp. "I am sleeping. Would you like to come again later when I am awake?"

"Antonio, open this door right now. Or else." Ezio spoke with more venom than a motherfucking arrow frog.

"Or else what?" Once a smart ass, always a smart ass.

"Or else I will just come through the window."

"I don't have any windows."

"**I will make a new one**."

Antonio didn't squeak like a little girl. No, really. He didn't. That was just your imagination. And what a vivid imagination you have. Really, the things that you kids –

"Grazie," Ezio said sarcastically as the thief opened the door for him.

"So... Ezio," said Antonio, the grandeur of his voice almost non-existant at this point. "How... er... How have you been?"

The assassin's eyes narrowed. "Me? Oh, I am absolutely _wonderful_. What about _you_, my friend? How have _you_ been doing?"

"Well, it is funny that you should ask," Antonio said lightly, perking up a bit. "I've been – "

His sentence was cut short when Ezio's knee was politely introduced to his groin. There weren't enough swear words in the Italian vocabulary to even begin to describe the sensation of an Ezio flavored dick-kick.

The thief wasn't aware that he had fallen to the floor until he felt himself being pulled back up to his feet. Now usually he'd be grateful that the younger man was nice enough to help him up. But since he was being pulled up by his _hair_, it was hard to feel anything except pain. Lots and lots of pain.

"I am quite upset with you, _amico mio_," the assassin snarled.

"Well," Antonio rasped, his voice barely above a whisper as he tried to remember how to breathe. "I never... w-would have guessed... friend Ezio... You are quite su... subtle in your... emotional outbursts..."

"Fuck you."

"I do believe that... Ah, please hold on... let me just... hah..." There was a small pause as the thief recollected himself. "All right. I'm a bit better. As I was saying, I do believe that my phallus will be unable to deal with any amount of sexual stimulation after the unfair assault it just received."

"The 'assault' that your sorry excuse for a dick just received was anything but unfair. You deserve much more than just that, but I am feeling fairly generous today."

"Oh? And why is that?"

A punch to the face told Antonio that it was really none of his business.

**XIXIX**

It took a lot to calm Ezio down. And by 'it took a lot to calm Ezio down', I mean that it took a lot of _wine_ to calm Ezio down. Antonio was relieved that he only got one black eye out of the encounter. Because it would be kind of hard to see if he got two. Not like he knew what it was like to have two black eyes or anything. He didn't get beat up by Ezio _that_ often. Nervous chuckle nervous chuckle nervous chuckle.

Aside from the black eye, the thief hadn't really gotten beaten as hard as he thought he was going to be. Sure, he had gotten kicked in the crotch. Sure, he had gotten punched in the face. Sure, he had gotten thrown halfway across the room. But hey, that was better than being... um... thrown off a roof... Right?

Actually, Antonio was beginning to feel tiny hints of guilt rather than physical pain. He watched as Ezio sulked over in a corner, fathering a glass of wine in his hand. The assassin was acting like a child who had been denied a pastry. Or, in this case, a Leonardo pastry. And yet Ezio was so dense that he didn't even realize that he _wanted _a Leonardo pastry in the first place. Antonio frowned a bit, remorse forgotten. "_I suppose it's time for round two_," he thought sadly to himself.

And _no_, that's not what he meant. Fucking perverts.

"Ezio," he said calmly. The assassin turned his head so fast that Antonio almost thought he was going to break his neck. "_Dio mio_, calm down. I was just going to say that if you don't want anyone to hug Leonardo, you should put a sign on him. You know, to claim him."

To Antonio's great amazement (and relief), Ezio only chuckled. "Yes, and while I'm at it I might as well piss on him too."

"You could try that."

"Mm."

So far so good. The thief smiled to himself. "I did not realize that you were so territorial. Perhaps if you two were dating, we wouldn't have this problem in the first pla –"

"I do not like Leonardo like that." The response was quick, almost automatic.

"Yes you do, you just do not know it yet because you are an idiot."

Ezio bristled and puffed out his chest a little, but the tiny pout on his face ruined the masculine gesture. "I am no idiot."

Antonio rolled his eyes. "Then why did you barge in here so violently?"

Now there was a question. The thief tried his hardest not to burst out laughing as he saw Ezio stumble over himself, trying to come up with an explanation. "I... well, it's because... because I know what you did! And I am so _upset_ with you!"

That took Antonio by surprise. '_No,_' he told himself. '_No, there is absolutely no way he could have known that I burnt the church down. I had concealed the gunpowder very carefully, and my actions were careful and precise. There is no way he... Unless... he was there too?_'

A look of sheer horror came over Antonio's face. Ezio couldn't have looked more smug. "You – You were there at the church! How – you couldn't have – you must have followed us! But I made sure that no one followed us... And I know you couldn't have seen me hide the gunpowder... Wait..."

Ezio's smug look slowly turned into one of realization. Antonio almost smacked his own forehead.

"You were bluffing, weren't you?" the thief asked quietly.

"_Si_," replied the assassin.

There was a long silence.

"So _you_ were the one who burned the church down?" came Ezio's somber question.

"It... It wasn't on purpose."

"And Leonardo was in the church with you, no?"

"He might've been... somewhere... within the... uh... area."

"And it was completely possible for him to get hurt?"

"I would never let that –"

"He could have gotten hurt. Right?"

"I – "

"_Right_?"

"... Right."

"I see." Ezio drank the rest of his alcohol in absolute silence. Then he turned towards Antonio and smiled warmly. There was another short pause before the younger man began to hum to himself, the grip on his now-gone beverage slowly beginning to tighten. If Antonio had only been a little more careful, perhaps he would have noticed that Ezio's smile had turned into a rather fearsome glare.

The last thing that the thief saw before he blacked out was a wine glass flying his way.

**XIXIX**

Ezio wasn't upset that he had caught Antonio groping his best friend. He really wasn't. Well, okay, maybe he was a little upset. But really, what _was_ he to think? He couldn't stop thinking about that vicious smirk the thief had given him.

Letting out a lazy sigh, Ezio leaned against a cart of hay. There really wasn't much to do when he wasn't on a mission. That was one of many things that he missed about visiting Leonardo; the artist always knew how to make boring days more interesting. The assassin briefly thought about going over to his friend's workshop, but then he stopped himself. No, Leonardo was probably out with his _boyfriend_ again. Ezio crinkled his nose.

It wasn't like he was jealous or anything.

He was merely upset over the fact that Antonio had been keeping so many secrets from him for the past few weeks. It was more than just a little suspicious. Ezio didn't mull over it, though. Instead, he yawned. He felt strangely sleepy all of a sudden. Luckily he remembered there was that cart of hay behind him and even though hay wasn't the nicest thing to sleep on, it would have to do for now.

Ezio climbed into the cart with relative ease. The hay scratched at his skin, but he tried to ignore it. It was a good thing that Italy had a lot of random haystacks around or else he'd never be able to do this as often as he did. He rolled over and yawned again, startling anyone who happened to pass by.

"_Demons are among us! It is a sighing haystack!_"

Ezio grinned sleepily to himself. Scaring the shit out of citizens never got old. He closed his eyes and began to drift to sleep... But things never go that smoothly. He was startled from his sleep when hand reached in and yanked him out.

"I had a feeling that I would find you in here."

Ezio glowered at the old man. "You could have just poked me. Pulling me out like that was unnecessary."

"That is unimportant now that you are awake. Besides, I have been meaning to ask you something."

"What do you want?" grumbled Ezio as he brushed bits of hay off himself.

"I have not heard you speak of Leonardo at all lately. Are you two fighting?"

"I hope you are joking. You hunt me down just to ask about my personal life?"

"Well? Are you fighting?"

"Not that it is any of your business, but _no_. We are not fighting."

The old man chuckled. Then he nodded his head, eyes shining beneath his hood. "Well that is good to know. He is a kind man; I met him the other day." He paused to tilt his head. "I was only asking because I hear that he has replaced you with Antonio."

Ezio's mouth went dry. "Excuse me?"

"Yes, I hear that they are the very best of friends now."

"Who... Who told you this?"

"That loud, brash woman. Rose, was it?"

"... Ros_a_?"

"_Si_, that was her name. Rosa. And I just wanted to ask you if it was true." The small smirk on the old man's face told Ezio that he wasn't really asking if it was true. He was telling him.

The assassin couldn't deny the cold pangs of jealousy creeping up into his chest. He clenched and unclenched his fists, unsure of how to reply to that. The two men stood in silence for a few beats. Then the old man spoke again. "Would you like to see?"

A pause. "... All right. But I do not wish for them to know that we are there."

"Ezio, my dear boy. Do you not know me? I wouldn't have it any other way."

"... You speak as though you have watched them from afar before."

La Volpe only smiled.

**XIXIX**

Leonardo wasn't an impatient person. He really wasn't. It was just that he had been waiting for Antonio to show up since early morning, and now it was late in the afternoon. He tapped his foot repeatedly against the ground. Where was that man?

The artist waited a few seconds longer before sighing loudly, pressing his palms to his temples. "I finally agree to go along with these stupid lessons of his, and now he is nowhere to be found," he muttered under his breath. "Well, I suppose there is always a good side to things. Now I can actually work on my commissions without being disturbed by that old –"

"Why must everyone insist on calling me _old_?" whined Antonio as he jumped down from the rooftop he had previously been sitting on. He landed with a solid 'thud' right in front of Leonardo. "I mean really," he continued , furrowing his brows.

Leonardo, however, couldn't get past the black eye forming ever-so-nicely on the thief's face. There was also bloodied bandaging wrapped sloppily around his forehead and arms. "My God, what happened to you?" he asked.

Antonio grinned. "I threw Rosa's portrait of a lion into the canal."

"...Oh. I see," Leonardo replied dully. Then his eyes widened as he remembered Rosa's words the other day. "You stole that painting and blamed it on Ezio, didn't you?"

Antonio shrugged his shoulders, but the lecherous grin on his face gave him away. "Have you spoken with Ezio lately?" the thief asked, changing the subject with much less grace than usual.

The question surprised Leonardo. He furrowed his brows. "He hasn't come to my workshop for weeks. And I know he is in Venice." Leonardo frowned a little and shuffled the dirt underneath his feet. "Have you spoken with him?"

"Not for a few days."

"Do you know if he is upset about something?"

"Oh, Leonardo," the thief said with a chuckle. "Ezio is always upset about something. He's either mulling over a mishap with an assassination, frowning over a lack of communication between he and his uncle, cursing over an argument that he had a few weeks ago with a random street vendor, sulking over something I did, whining over something I said, mourning the loss of his family –"

"Antonio!"

"What? I am only speaking the truth." Antonio stared at Leonardo, wondering why the other man returned no words of conversation. Then he rolled his eyes. "Come with me, artist."

**XIXIX**

When they finally reached Teodora's place, Leonardo felt like ripping his own hair out. He _knew_ he shouldn't have trusted Antonio to take him somewhere decent. What was he going to learn here? How to have man sex?

… Actually he already knew how to do that, but that was beside the point.

"Why the long face, Leonardo?" cooed Antonio as he opened the door to the mock beareu.

"You brought me to a whorehouse."

"And?"

"And you are despicable."

"And?"

"And... you are despicable."

"You already said that."

"And?"

Antonio laughed. "_Touche_."

It wasn't long before Teodora came bouncing down the staircase. Leonardo wanted to let out a sigh of relief at being in the company of someone relevantly sane; but when he noticed that she was wearing a shit-eating grin very similar to Antonio's, he realized that she must've been in on the whole lesson thing too.

"Leonardo," she purred, sweeping across the room to give the artist a bone crushing hug, "it is so nice to see you again."

"I wish I could return the sentiment, _signora_," he grumbled.

Teodora tilted her head as she let go of him. "What was that?"

The artist smiled warmly. "Oh, nothing."

Antonio coughed.

**XIXIX**

In general, the day went by a lot more smoothly than Leonardo had thought it would. Antonio had gotten, ahem, '_distracted_' by a few of the women, so it was just Teodora that he hung around with. The actual lesson itself went by just as well.

"_All right, Leonardo_," Teodora had said with a tiny smirk. "_Let's see what you can do_." Leonardo's natural response was to stare at her like she had mushrooms growing out of her ears. Strangely enough, however, she hadn't meant that in a sexual way. In fact, everything she taught him had to do with masculine gestures, facial expressions, and body language. (The only downside was that by the end of the lesson, Leonardo was almost positive that Teodora was a man. Because really, what the fuck?)

It was almost nightfall by the time that Antonio and Leonardo finally left. The thief was, for once, relatively quiet on their journey back. Leonardo was certain that this was because Antonio had gotten screwed by so many women that his brain was probably short-circuiting.

As they crossed a bridge, Leonardo giggled.

This snapped Antonio out of his daze. "Damn it Leonardo, men do not _giggle_. Did you not learn anything at all today?" he spat.

But the artist was already off in his own little world, because there (right _there_) sat the most majestic, beautiful eagle he had ever seen. "Oh, Antonio!" he swooned. "Look at its feathers! And its beak! And it has such a perfect form; such a perfect pose! And... and... Oh, Antonio!"

"Yes yes, it's wonderful. Now can we go home? I have a thieves' guild to run, you know. I have things to steal."

"No, I must get a closer look."

"It is perched on the bridge directly opposite us. How do you plan on doing that?"

"I will sit on the wall of the bridge."

"Ah, yes, that's very safe. You're a smart man, Leonardo," mumbled Antonio, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked at his feet. By the time he looked back up at Leonardo, the artist was already propped up along the bridge's wall, his boots barely touching the water. The thief's eyes widened in alarm. "_Dio mio_, I was only joking!"

"It is such a pretty bird..."

"Get down from there!"

"I wonder if its feathers are gray or just light black...?"

"You're going to fall in if you keep it up!"

"And it has the prettiest brown eyes..."

Leonardo went silent for a moment, but he came back to reality when he heard no more complaints or yells coming from Antonio behind him.

"Ah, mi dispiace Antonio," he said with a small laugh.

He frowned at the lack of a response.

"... Antonio?" Still no response.

As Leonardo began to turn around to face the silent thief, he felt a pair of hands slam into his back. There wasn't enough time to yell out, because he had already been swept up by the non-existent current of the canal.


End file.
